Ginger And Ash
by Mistical Ninja
Summary: The Second Wizarding war is nearly over. As Harry begins the hunt for the Horcrux's, Ginny begins a new year of school. But all is not well. Things are happening that will change the course of not only her's, but ever wizards life. A HPGW. A/U
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Honestly, If I owned Harry Potter, or any of them, I wouldn't be writing FanFic's about them.

**Warning: **This Story is rated for Violence, bloodshed, and Adult Themes.

A/N: Okay, so first off. This is my first Harry Potter Fic. I'm branching out, trying new things an all.

That being said, yes, it does start of slightly Angsty. Don't worry though, that does change. Er... a lot of things change. But we'll get to that later.

Second, There will be blood. And Cussing. And...things. I don't hold back. I write a story that makes you feel everything, all at once, and hides nothing. That being said, I do hope you enjoy this story. It's told from Ginny's perspective, and in a sense, is really a "coming of age" story for her. She's finding that life isn't always Sunshine and Daises, and if she wants Harry, it WILL be war.

Anyways! Without further Adue:

_**~Ginger and Ash~**_

_**A harry/Ginny  
**_

**Chapter 1**

Trial By Fire

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

The words fell on those enjoying the festivities of the wedding with the same effect of a carpet bomb: Shock and Awe. People stared after the disappearing Patronus with the same expression a deer might have in headlights, aside from those who knew what they meant. To them, it was a call to arms. Screams rent the air as people panicked, wands found themselves drawn and within seconds the bangs of those apparating and disapparating filled the air. The protection of the burrow had fallen, and with it, the Death Eaters began their assault.

"Harry!!" Ginny screamed as the first Death Eater apparated not ten feet from her. His wand was already out, and she could feel the curse on his lips, knew he meant to strike her down. And to think for even a second, that they were safe from the perils of the outside world.

"_Protego!"_ Ginny felt Lupin and Tonk's combined spells shimmer into existence not an inch from her face, and it was barely in time to intercept the incoming stun spell. Chaos ensnared the reception, and the last glimpse Ginny caught of Harry was as he apparated away with both Hermione and Ron. Shards of pain and remorse ripped through her heart at that, oblivious to the fact that at any moment, she could die. _He's gone. He's left me. Again._ The truth of that statement was both numbing, and infuriating. War took to her mind, trapping her emotions in a perilous tug-of-war.

She knew why he left, knew it was likely both for his safety and her own. But a part of her didn't care. She wanted to be with him, was that so wrong? Why was it that every time she got close to the one thing she wanted more then anything, it slipped through her fingers? It was beyond infuriating, and Ginny found her emotions roiling to be let loose. Someone, she didn't care who, was going to pay.

So when her father grabbed her arm and hauled her back from launching an all out offensive on the nearest Death Eater in sight, she nearly decked him in anger, fear having no chance to register in her mind. "No time, Ginny, we've got to get you out of here!" But it was already too late. The Ministry and Death Eater armada closed the net on those that remained, who hadn't had time to escape via Disapparation. Thankfully, though, It was with very few left that the Death Eaters found themselves, only those few of the Order left, including the Weasley family(sans Ron, Bill, and Fleur).

"Well, well, well… Look what we got here." Sneered one of the masked Death Eaters, his mask carved into the form of Laughing Man, and he slowly stepped out of the close knit ring towards Ginny and her father, " Couple weasel mongrels havin' dem'selves a party. Whatcha' got happen'? One of your mutts have a mongrel pup or something Weasley?"

Ginny felt her father tense at that, could feel his outrage at the man before them. But they both knew it was a ruse, an attempt to get him to lash out, and possibly even get thrown in Azkaban… or worse. No, now was not the time for battle. Ginny knew that, knew that they couldn't actively take action against the Death Eaters… yet.

"No, actually. A wedding ceremony. You just missed the bride and groom." Arthur replied, a sneer of his own evident on his face.

"Yeah? Huh… ah well. We'll see bout that… and his lil' bitch too." The Death Eater growled coolly, then turned to Ginny. " So. I hear tale that you've heard from that Potter snot over the summer. He here?"

Both Ginny and Arthur drew cold at that, as did every other member of the Order present. They all knew what this meant. " No, actually." Lied Arthur, " As I hear it, he out visiting other friends. He has so many, you understand."

"Mm… That I do, Weasley, that I do. But, here's the thing: I've several witnesses 'ho say they _saw _him coming here not four days 'go. So I can't help but think…" He murmured as he twirled his wand menacingly, "That you's lyin' to me. I don' like bein' lied to, Weasley. So, here's how its gonna work. You tell me what I wanna know," He said with a flourish of his wand that leveled point blank with Ginny's face, " Or Ms. Freckles here gets a face full, and we start again. And we keep goin', till you tell me where the lil' Potter snot is."

Both Fred and George let out snarls of outrage at this, but before they could make another move, more of the Death Eaters wrapped themselves around the twins arms, hauling them back before delivering blows to their abdomens that stole the breath from their lungs. " Quiet you!" Snarled one of the many Death Eaters.

Laughing Man lived up to his masks name sake, giving a quick, cold chuckle as he shook his head, then turned back to Ginny and her father. " See what happens when you try to fight?"

"Why are you looking for Harry then?" Arthur said calmly, his face an impassive mask, barely holding back the rage Ginny could feel radiating off him. You don't strike his sons and get away with it, she thought.

"Oh, but we're lookin out fer you, ya know? He's a wanted criminal, he is. Wanted for questionin' by the ministry he is, questioning bout poor Albus's death. You know's he was the last one to see's 'im alive. Ran from the scene. And now, it seems, runnin' from questionin'. Mighty 'spicious, you ask me." Laughing Man gave another mad cackle, then focused on Ginny. " Where is he, Weasley?"

Ginny knew what was coming, knew it was going to hurt. But she would endure, she would handle it. Harry needed her, needed whatever time she could buy him. And she would not betray him. "Do your worst, shit-face. We've told you what we know."

She could almost feel the man smile under his mask, then murmur, " As you wish doll-face. _Crucio!"_

Pain laced through Ginny's chest, and stole the breath from her lungs even as the first of her screams ripped from her throat. Fire snapped and coiled throughout her blood, burning her mind, burning all conscious thought from her as she collapsed to the ground, curling about herself as the pain rent her in two.

"Stop, stop it! I don't know where he is! Honest!" Arthur screamed as he tried to get to Ginny, but one of the Death Eater horde grabbed him by his arms and held him back, even as the twins tried again in vain to reach their sister.

Finally, the pain ceased, leaving only an aching numbness in its wake. " See? I can be merciful too. Now- Where. Is. He."

"I don't know... I don't know, I swear, I don't know…"She could hear her father's sobs behind her, but it meant little to her. A mere absent realization of thought. Her attention, all of it, was on breathing, on simply keeping herself together, keeping the pain at bay.

So she didn't even hear when the incantation left the man's lips, all her thoughts turned to white fire as she arched her back off the ground, screaming in agony. _Ginny, you've got to control it._

No, it wasn't possible. His voice. She could hear him, could hear Harry. _Ginny, it'll be alright. Please love, just hold with it._ She shook her head as the tears came, but forced herself to lock her jaws. _That's right. Just like that. He can't touch you._ The pain subsided again for what felt like a hands breathe, but on the next outlashing, she clenched her jaw and fought the pain with all her might. _ That's it, Ginny. That's it. Come on love, you can do this. You're better than him, better then anything he can do. You're stronger than him._ She could feel him then, feel his touch to her skin, a bare whispering of sensation against her arm, and in it's wake the pain seemed to dissolve, didn't matter.

Next, came his eyes, those beautiful Emerald eyes that she knew oh so well. How many times had she spent hours staring into them? It felt like an eternity ago. With each jolt of the curse, she saw him a little more, his smooth lips, that strong jaw. And then another thought, more horrible then any pain the man cursing her could bring tore into her mind: She might never see him again. She would never hear him laugh again, never see his smile. Feel his touch, his lips upon her own. It was possible she would never see his beautiful emerald eyes again.

"Why?" She choked out at last, and he could only smile mournfully.

_Because, Ginny. I lo-_

Pain ripped through her, stronger then any agony she'd every felt before. It felt as if her very heart, her mind had been ripped from her body.

And as darkness swallowed her, she watched as the man she loved walked away.

***

The next few weeks were a hellish nightmare that Ginny could barely remember. Time blurred as the Dark Lord ascended to power, pulling the strings on his puppets like the master marionette he was. Thankfully, (some would say) her family had escaped continued interrogation by the new regime, though it became mandatory that Ginny attend Hogwarts. She, like all the others, knew that this was simply a means of controlling the youth's education. She knew what was coming, knew that when she returned to school there would be no reprieve from the nightmare.

She recovered rather quickly from her torture, and knew to count herself lucky. She'd seen what happened to other subjected to the same curse, had seen the madness. But what did that say of her? Could she already be mad, and just not know it? She wasn't sure anymore, wasn't sure of anything. As summer drew to a close, and Ginny found herself walking the same familiar path to the platform nine and three quarters, she also found herself so lost.

Everything in the world seemed so gray, so dull. The world around her seemed…broken. And she knew why. _He_ wasn't there. Even through all these years, the fights, break-ups. The deaths that had taken their school, the fears and pains. Through it all… He had always been there. A beacon, a watchtower against the darkness. He had always been her refuge, her safe harbor, even before she could claim him as her own. Could she even..?

But she knew the answer to that before the thought even crossed her mind. She was his, through and through. There was no doubt there. But did he feel the same? She could still remember the feel of his lips against hers, the passion that they had held. The hooded look in his eyes as they'd broken apart. The pain that had stole through his eyes as he pulled away. How she hated herself for letting him go. But she had to; she had to have faith in him. In them. She would be back with him, she had to trust that.

Quietly, she found one of the only empty cabins on the entire train. Locking the door, she pulled the shade to the door, then slumped against the far window seal. She was just so tired now. Ever since she'd lost him, nothing made any kind of sense. In the end, she found solitude to be her only reprieve. Left to her thoughts, it was only a short step to the only time she found herself in a peaceful state: sleep.

***

When she woke next, it was to the thunder of the door rattling in its frame. "Weasley! I know you're in there! Open this door, now!" Bellowed a voice from the other side. It was a voice she knew all too well. Rage boiled up within her -uncontrollable- and found it's outlet. Pulling her wand, Ginny pulled the shades to her cabin, bathing her in darkness. She knew who was on the other side of that door, knew Malfoy would be there sneering down at her. Likely, he would be flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, fierce –to be sure- but not manageable. Malfoy would likely step into the cabin by her estimation, and the moment he did, she could easily immobilize him with a simple stunning spell. The trick was going to be taking down both Crabbe and Goyle at once. If only she had a wide range spell… But she knew that would be impossible for now. Perhaps a quick body bind spell, followed by a disarming and stunning spell. Yes… that would work.

And then she stopped herself. What had she been about to do? Liberally attack two other students, albeit fools and thorns in her side? And for what? She shook her head, and gritted her teeth. She had to reign in her temper, a hard feat with Malfoy pounding on the door, but one she finally managed.

_That's my girl Ginny. I knew you could do it._ She took a moments gasp as the words whispered through her mind, almost as if Harry had been there beside her. What was wrong with her? What was happening? Had she truly snapped?

None of it mattered though, not yet. She could puzzle the meaning of this development out later. "_Alohamora."_ She murmured with a flick of her wand, letting the door slide open. The light filtered down around Malfoy (the arrogant sod) as he stood in her doorway, glaring about with his wand out.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny whispered tersely, tired of this conversation already.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Who do you think you'r-"

"Look you arrogant sod, either say what you came to say," Ginny growled as she flew from the darkness, her wand snaking out to lie bare against Malfoy's neck, "Or get the hell out of my cabin."

He stared into her eyes then, his eyes cold and wrathful. "Mind your manners, Weasley… You'd strike a prefect? All for what, that fool Pot-"

Ginny connected her fist with Malfoy so fast that not even she registered what she'd done until Malfoy rebounded off the wall, his head snapping back against the window so hard she actually heard the dull _thunk_ of the window, and he came away holding his bleeding nose. She leveled her wand between his eyes, and snarled in a voice so cold that it chilled even herself, " You _ever_ talk about Harry in front of me again Draco, And I _swear_ I'll do more then bloody that disgusting face of yours. Now get out of my sight, this never happened."

Draco slowly made his way to his feet, then stormed away as quickly as he could. It was then that Ginny realized what was missing. _Crabbe and Goyle weren't with him._

Glancing around, Ginny realized that every eye was on her, every person stood completely dumbfounded. As long as they'd known her, she'd always been sweet, a carefree giver. _Times change_. She thought, then noticed idly that those around her were dressed in their school robes. It dawned on her that Draco had come to her in the manner of a prefect (albeit a snobbish, pomp, arrogant, disgusting one) and that she _had_ locked her cabin. Had she been in the wrong? Was it –oh god, she couldn't even believe she was thinking it- was it possible that he'd been trying to be… Nice?

Ginny found herself gagging as she turned back to her cabin, shutting the door. It didn't matter, didn't change the facts. They had always been enemies, always hated each other. She doubted that would ever change, especially now. Sighing, she let her mind wander as she dressed for school. Thank Merlin if she should get expelled within the first day.

**To be Continued…**

**Closing note: Please Don't forget to Review! We live for them!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry, or any of these characters, I wouldn't be writing FanFic's about them.

**Warning:** This Fic has been rated for violence, gore, strong language, and Adult Themes.

Authors Note: Mmk! So, welcome to the second Chapter of Ginger and Ash! I'm so excited about this Fic now! I spent… I dunno how many hours brainstorming over it, and honestly can say that I cannot WAIT to get into the later chapters. This is probably gonna be one of my few truly epic and awesome fics, if I do say so myself. XD

On that note, I'm going to make it known now: The story might feel like it's rushing at first. This is because I'm trying to get through the Cannon Section. Things are about to start changing though, as I introduce my own characters and thoughts into the story. I spent a lot of time on this story though, so I know it'll be fun. Gods, I can't wait! Please, read and enjoy.

With that, I give you:

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter2**

**In the Dark of Night**

Arrival at Hogwarts brought on a mixture of both joy and sadness to its students. Many found the school to be a home, a reprieve from the muggle world and a place to learn, to better themselves. This changed with Dumbledore's death. Ginny walked silently through the grand entrance halls, eyes drifting over the stairwells and paintings.

Children filed in, as they always did, from the boats over the lake. It seemed unreal now, seemed like a lifetime ago, that fateful night. How things had changed since she herself had crossed that very lake. With this thought, she found herself brought back to present circumstances, to the truth of the world. Voldemort had risen to power once again, and this time there was nothing standing in his way. Nothing save one man with a lightning scar upon his forehead.

What must that knowledge be like? To know that the fate of the world rested on your shoulders? To _know _that if you failed, the world would fall? In that moment, Ginny truly felt a thrill of fear run down her spine. Not for herself, but for Harry. So much depended on him. So much hung in the balance.

It was with this sobering thought that she took her seat at the Gryffindor table. "Evenin' Ginny," Whispered Neville in greeting as he took his seat opposite her. "I'd say we're of the same mind, from the look on your face."

She gave Neville, her long time friend and ally, a slight smile, quirking her eyebrow slightly, "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Helpin' Harry, of course."

Ginny stared at him for a full minute, her smile slowly growing wider. Finally, she broke into a fit of laughter, "Oh Neville... You're too much some times."

He scowled at her then, at her obvious scorn, "Whats that supposed to mean Ginny? I thought you'd be happy to help, would jump at the chance."

This, though only brought fury to Ginny's face, a look that quickly had Neville back pedaling. "I would Neville, and don't you doubt it for a _second. _But what can we do?" she said finally with a snarl and flick of her hand around her," Look at us. We're stuck here. This isn't a school anymore..." she trailed off slowly as McGonagall took to the podium at the front, and Ginny noticed her escort.

_no. Not him. No, no, no..._

But there would be no denying the truth, no escaping it. Hogwarts had a new headmaster.

"...May I present to you, your new Headmaster: Severus Snape."

Ginny turned back to Neville then, all hope seemingly draining from her features, "It's a prison."

***

The rest of the feast went as pleasantly as one could expect after such a shock, which didn't end there. It soon became knowledge that not only was Severus to be Headmaster, as appointed by the new Minister of Magic, but also two new teachers had been appointed, the brother/sister duo Amycus and Alecto Carrow.

That night was a quiet one within the Gryffindor tower, a rarity even for the first night back. Ginny found herself nestled onto the couch nearest the fireplace, a spot that had often been reserved by a certain someone, until Neville joined her, breaking into her solitude.

"Listen, Ginny. I know you said there's nothing we can really do, but I can't accept it. I won't accept it. We can fight, dammit. Like before, with Umbridge."

Ginny sighed at that, resigning herself to the conversation. "Alright, how do you suggest we go about it? Set up the D.A again? And then what? We have no Harry, no teacher. We'd just be practicing, going round about in circles."

Neville glared into the fireplace, sitting back against the couch. " But we have to do something. I won't accept that Harry isn't coming back. And when he does, we'll need to be ready."

Ginny found herself actually smiling then. "See. Told you, you could do it."

Neville glanced up then, watching Ginny carefully, " What?"

Idly, she leaned over, hugging him. " You really are meant for this house. There really is courage down in your heart. You just needed to find it."

_Did you know that if Voldemort had picked differently, it would have been me instead of him there? _His words came to her then, a quiet whispering against her ear, and though Ginny couldn't suppress the sudden thrill of joy at his voice, she managed to hold back the gasp that wanted so desperately to escape her lips.

_Harry?_

Silence greeted her mental thoughts, escorted by simple confusion and fear. Just what was going on? Her mind raced at this, trying to piece things together, to understand what was happening; yet finding no suitable answer.

"Ginny?" Neville whispered, pulling back from the embrace ever so slightly to gaze into her wild eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Hmm?" She murmured, focusing on him again. No, Harry wasn't here. It was just a figment of her imagination. "I-it's nothing Neville. Don't worry bout it." She pulled back from their embrace entirely, standing from the couch and stepping around its edge towards the girl's dormitory, but stopped behind Neville. "For what it's worth Neville... I'm proud of you. I'm sure Harry would be too."

She turned to leave when she felt Neville's own hand on top of hers, " For what it's worth... Thanks. And I hope...you'll come back to us some day, Ginny."

He turned back to the fire then, leaving Ginny to puzzle over his meaning. She tried to focus on their conversation, to glean quite what he meant, yet kept coming back to one conclusion: He'd called her a coward. He hadn't openly said it, but it had been in his choice of words, as if saying she wasn't acting as she normally would.

Him. Neville Longbottom. At first, the thought brought insurmountable scorn to her mind, "How Dare he's" and the like, until she caught herself again. What exactly had happened to her? She laid now atop her bed, quietly considering everything, trying to discern just when she'd become so bitter, and what was causing it.

_It's cause of me... isn't it Ginny. I've hurt you, again._ Once again she found herself gasping, both in shock and embarrassment. His voice had been so real that time, so close. And in one swift moment, she became shockingly aware of her surroundings. Though it was just a bedroom, it was both empty and private. Hearing his voice here sent a thrill of unexplainable excitement through her.

_No Harry. It's not you. I know you would never hurt me._ The words had barely entered her mind when a sensation akin to the wind brushing against her bare skin (a startling feeling considering the amount of clothing she wore) wrapped about her shoulders. If she closed her eyes, she could almost swear at that moment that his scent lingered in the air about her.

_You say that Ginny, but I know the truth. I know it hurt you when I walked away. _His voice came to her in almost perfect clarity, accompanied by the wind brushing against her cheek, as if catching stray strands of her hair and moving them back.

She sighed, knowing that she couldn't honestly deny that. And it seemed her inner demons would have their say with her, no matter what she thought on the matter.

_Of course it hurt Harry. Gods, don't you get it? _ She pushed away from the shadow sensations, and forced herself to set about changing, ignoring nagging feeling that she was missing something until she was fully changed and had turned back to her bed. In that moment, it was almost as if she could see him with perfect, absolute clarity. Gods, but her mind could be a cruel thing.

"I love you Harry. So yeah, when you walked away, it hurt. There, you happy?"

If she wasn't sure that this was all some form of delusion, some figment of her imagination brought on by the stresses of the past few weeks (including the torture), she would have sworn that the look upon Harry's face at her words was one of genuine hurt. But that wasn't possible. Harry was miles upon miles away. There was no way he could be here, especially not in the girl's dormitory. "What's happening, Harry?" She spoke the words aloud, bypassing her brain entirely.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. _" Too much. There are just... too many things happening."_ Quietly, he stretched his hand out to her, inviting. Knowing she was mad for even indulging in this fantasy, she took his hand and was shocked to find it warm to the touch, solid even. Was this truly her mind anymore? What was happening? He pulled, and she let him tug her into his arms, let him hold her as he had often done during their time together.

"_The truth is Ginny... I love you too."_ The words were whispered so low, Ginny wasn't even sure if she'd heard them correctly. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of all this, knowing inwardly that this was likely a dream. But for the moment, she let herself enjoy the comfort of it, the security. She felt as though she might never feel this way again, or at least, not for a very, very long time. Gods, how she wished it were real. How she wished she truly was in his arms at this very moment.

Smiling as a wicked thought passed through her mind, she leaned back slightly so that she might see his emerald eyes. Like her own, they were hooded deeply, and at some point, he had the same thought she was.

Dipping his head ever so slightly, he captured her lips with his own, and Ginny found herself caught in rapture once again. She reached up with one hand, letting her hand tangle in his unruly hair, and pulled him closer to her, intensifying the kiss. Gods, but how she loved this man. As the kiss went on, she found herself growing quickly hungrier and hungrier, wanting him with a passion that struck flames throughout her limbs. Pulling back from the kiss, she pushed him back, forcing him entirely onto the bed.

"Perhaps I should truly give you your birthday present." She mewled happily as she descended on top of him. Again they kissed, hands dancing over each other, jerking at random pieces of clothing in their need for one another. And as they spent the rest of the night together, a single sentence whispered between them.

"I love you."

***

When Ginny woke next, it was to a warm contentment, fully satisfied. To say a warm glow surrounded her would be an understatement. She worked her way out from under her covers, noting idly that she still wore the nightgown from the night before, then changed into slightly more decent clothing before making her way first into the common room, and when she found him not there, up the stairs to the men's dorm. Quickly, she knocked at the seventh floor door, a knock that was greeted by much grunting.

After her fifth knock, there was a crash from within; a growled curse, then a bleary Seamus Finnigan pulled the door to. "Ginny? What're you doin' 'ere?" He glanced down at himself then, and blushed faintly when he realized the state of himself- his lack of clothing aside from his boxers- then bolted back inside without bothering to lock the door.

Ginny took that as her cue to make herself at home, and quietly made her way inside the boys dormitory, ignoring the other residents as she made her way to the only slumbering form. After a moment's consideration, she tapped Neville ever so lightly, whispering his name. When he finally came to, it was with a jolt and shock, nearly rebounding off the bedpost as he bolted upright.

"Ginny! What are you doing here?"

She chuckled at that, sitting at the foot of his bed for a moment, " You know, Seamus asked me the same thing. But enough of that. Let me say what I needed to, and then you can get back to sleep."

In the background, one could hear Seamus grumble loudly, " Not bloody likely." Neville watched her for a long moment, and then nodded, "Alright."

"I did a lot of thinking last night... and you're right Neville. We can't give up on him. Not yet. And we can fight. We will fight." She reached up with one hand then, holding it over her heart, " I promise that."

Neville was silent after this for so long, Ginny thought he'd fallen asleep sitting up. Finally, he whispered cautiously, "Why? What changed your mind?"

At his question, Ginny found herself drawn back into the dream, herself in Harry's arms. The warmth of his skin like a fire against her own, his heart beating out a steady tenor that would lull her to sleep if she was left alone.

"_So, about Neville. Why won't you fight, Ginny?"_

Moaning lightly at being disturbed, she found herself being pulled more tightly against Harry's rumbling chest, laughter bubbling from his lips. _"Oh come on, love... You know I'm going to ask."_

She scowled up at him then, lightly hissing, " You know, for a dream, you're not very accommodating."

Again, he let out a short rumble of laughter, his hand drifting down her spine in a manner that he knew sent shivers dancing across her skin, _"Mm... I dunno 'bout that. Sides, wasn't it you that said that you liked me because of the fight in me?"_

She rolled her eyes at that, nipping at his bare chest before extracting herself from his arms so that she might indulge herself in one of her greatest pleasures, that of his lips. He answered her kiss with one of his own, greedily nipping at her lower lip, suckling it lightly before backing away with a murmur of protest, "_You're just distracting me now..."_

She let out a low giggle at that, her nails tracing over his bare chest as she nipped at his lip again, " So what if I am? I've always been one to take what I want. And I want you."

"_Gi-nny..."_ He moaned pleadingly, drawing yet another shiver from her. She knew his resistance was crumbling, and soon he'd yield all over again. But for the moment, she did indulge him. She knew her mind was trying to tell her something.

With a sigh, she bowed her head, " I... I'm scared. What if we don't make it back? What if I never see you again? These Death Eaters... They'll kill us. Any of us, with out question. I don't want others blood on my hands again." She found herself shivering again, but not from hunger or Harry's presence,

" They're already stained so much..."

Quietly, Harry slipped one finger under the tip of her jaw, lifting it so that he might gaze into her eyes. It was in that moment, when his eyes gleamed with a determination and love that she'd never seen before, that she knew above all else: there was no other man for her.

"_Listen to me Ginny. Listen. You are not a bad person. You are a person who simply had many bad things happen to her. And even if your hands are stained, it is a stain that we both carry. A weight that we will carry together. I promise you that. I will never leave you, never abandon you."_

Slowly, she could feel the tears threatening her eyes once more, " But you already have..."

"_No. I have not. I swear to you, I have not abandoned you. I will not. Always..."_ he whispered, taking her hand with his free hand and placing it over his own heart, _" Always. You will always be here. Never doubt that."_

Nodding her head at that, she let him hold her as she wept for a time. And when she kissed him next, it was with more conviction then ever before.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, meeting Neville's gaze levelly. "Because Neville. I love him. And I will not doubt him."

Neville smiled after a moment, nodding.

" Welcome back."

***

The next few weeks were a blur of emotions, trials and problems. The D.A reformed, Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood at the lead. They protested the new regime in any way they could, plastering the walls of Hogwarts with 'Dumbledore's Army: Still recruiting!', and similar slogans.

As for Muggle Studies, and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, respectively, they each had become a living hell to anyone who was friends with muggles ( or as the Carrows were so happy to put it, Blood Traitors). Often, those of the D.A found themselves on the receiving end of one beating after another, or whatever form of punishment the Carrows could come up with, including being used as target practice for the cruciatus curse in Dark Arts class.

It was after one of these many sessions that Ginny found herself in Hagrid's hut, recovering in what was supposed to be detention.

"right nasty lot, they are. Usin' tha' foul curse! An' Snape, 'ot doin' 'nything 'bout it!" Hagrid protested as he poured Ginny her glass of tea.

She smiled weakly at him, nodding in thanks for the tea. "S'alright, 'agrid... I'll live. I have to." She took a sip of her tea, letting it warm her slowly. How she couldn't wait to go to sleep tonight, to find herself immersed in a dream that had become all to prevalent as of late. It was only in these moments, late at night, that she allowed herself to cry, to let the pain get to her. It was in these moments with the man she loved, that she let her walls down. It didn't happen often, her crying, but when it did he was there. The curious bit was that even though he did not 'appear' in the real world any longer, Ginny could almost swear she felt his outrage at her treatment.

She wondered idly how the real Harry was doing, what he must be feeling out there. She found herself humming lightly as she thought of him, a content little tune that she herself did not fully recognize, but liked nonetheless. Hagrid kept her company as she drank her tea, his eyes constantly darting from her to the door, checking each with a great deal interest. As she finished her tea, Ginny let out a soft sigh, shaking her head, " I'm not crackin' Hagrid."

"Course not. Who'd say such a thing? I wasn' thinkin' it, nope." Hagrids attempt to conceal his worries and fears did little for Ginny, other then bring a smile to her lips. Even for a half-giant, he was one of the kindest people she knew.

"I'm not. Honest. I'm just realizin' that there's a lot that I can't control. But what I can, I will. I won't give up on him Hagrid."

It was Hagrids turn to smile, and he nodded solemnly, reaching across the table with one giant hand,

" Aye lass, I know. He'll be back, just you wait an see." With a quick glance out the window, Hagrid gave a irritated grumble. "Blimey. It's gettin late already. You need to get back up ta tha castle 'fore Carrow an 'is croons catch ya."

Ginny nodded at that, gathering her things together. " Thanks Hagrid." She said loudly after getting her coat on and reaching up as Hagrid bent down to give her a hug.

"Ah, don' you mention it Ginny. You just be careful, alrigh'? Now off wit' ya." Hagrid said as he ushered her out the door, waving her off as she began the trek across the grounds, the night's cool Autumn mist already setting in. Barely a light could be seen from the castle itself, and when Hagrid's door closed, Ginny found herself trudging through the dark ground aided only by the werelight from the moon above.

"_Ginny, move. Something doesn't feel right."_ His words came then, so unexpected that Ginny let out a small yelp of surprise. She glanced around, sure that it'd been Harry himself this time, but found no one.

"Harry..?" She whispered lightly, eyes darting about in the darkness until she pulled her wand from under her coat. _"Lumos."_ She whispered, flooding the night around her with the bright wandlight.

So when Pansy Parkinson and three other Slytherin's found themselves suddenly revealed around Ginny, there was a unanimous yelp of surprise from all present, followed by four separate yells of _"Expelliarmus!"_

Yet the slytherin's efforts were once again in vain, Ginny having enough warning to form a shield charm around her before the collective spells hit. But even she was no match for the combined might of four disarming spells, and her shield charm broke with a resounding crack that echoed off the castle walls.

Ginny felt the rebounding shock as her charm broke, leaving her dazed but for a moment, but it was enough. One of those around her lunged, slugging her hard across her jaw and sending her sprawling to the ground.

"You bitch!" One of those around her roared, before joining in cheering as Pansy took up a turf of Ginny's hair. " You thought you could just put your filthy muggle-loving hands on my Draco, and I wouldn't know about it?" Pansy snarled in Ginny's ear, yanking hard on her hair, "Hmm? Did you? Well you're wrong."

Ginny tried to fight back, but already the others were holding her down as Pansy slammed her head back into the ground before pulling her back up. "You know, they saw that one of your best features is your hair, Weasley. Wonder what you'll look like without it." Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw a sudden movement in the distance, the flash of metal, and then Pansy pressed the knife in her hand to Ginny's scalp.

"Oh, and this is going to hurt."

**To be continued…**

**C/N:** As a final note, I would also like to thank Raven The Ravenous for his support and inspiring words for me to branch out. Thanks Raven. You're the man. I would also like to thank all my friends and supporters, and hope that you find as much enjoyment in this fic as I have had in writing thus far. Please remember to review an all, and also: I'm currently in the market for a Beta. Know any takers?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of Rowlkin's characters. If I did, I wouldn't be writing Fanfic, now would I?

**Warning:** This Fic is rated for blood, Gore, Strong Language, and several Adult Themes.

A/N: So! Welcome to the third installment of Ginger and Ash! From this point onward, the story deviates from Cannon, and the chapters begin to get longer as we get into my world. Rest assured, the characters are all the same they just... get better. Plus, I start introducing my own people. Much fun is to be had.

That said, enjoy my friends!

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 3**

**Ashes Fall**

Ginny awoke to screams.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, pain lacing through her shoulders and spine, bringing a rush of panic as memories from the night before came back to her. Her hands flew to her hair, yet found her flaming mane to still be intact. Yet, when she pulled her hand back, she found a kind of sticky residue coating it. Bringing her hand eye level, it took her several seconds pondering to understand that her hand was coated in blood.

And not just her hands; her clothes were splattered liberally with it and some grey substance, as was the ground around her. Whispered voices sounded around her, and blearily, Ginny gazed about at those assembled, everyone from Hufflepuff to Slytherin. Several people held each other, blatant looks of fear on their faces as their eyes met hers.

Confused, she looked about her, to that of her assailants from the night before. Three of the Slytherin girls lay bare to the morning sun, their arms and legs positioned all wrong, bones poking out from under the skin. Blood had seeped from several wounds all over their bodies, staining their clothes and the ground around them crimson. The wounds across their bodies would never heal properly, not even with the best possible magic available. No, in their wake, they would leave behind hideous scars.

_At least they'll live_. Ginny grumbled mentally, annoyed as the screams continued. Slowly, she turned to where Pansy Parkinson wreathed and screamed in pain, her hair pinned to a tree by a shaft of solid ice. With each shift of her body, more and more of her hair was pulled from her scalp, only causing more blood to seep down the sides of her face. Inwardly, a darker side of Ginny wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of the girl before her; if she just stayed still, one of the teachers would have her down with minimal hair loss. Suddenly, Ginny's stomach roiled more fiercely then it had in weeks, and as the contents of last night's tea spilled across the grass beneath Ginny, she felt whatever strength she had deteriorate. Slumping to one side, oblivion soon took her.

***

When Ginny woke next, she found herself bathed in warm, radiant light. It felt lovely to be lying there; free of any problems or worries. Yet slowly, she came down from the pleasure and found herself in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Soon, every muscle and bone in her body began to ache until finally she curled into a whimpering ball so as to hide from the world. "Shh…shh shh shh… It's alright, Ginny dear. It's alright. You're safe now." The words of comfort accompanied a soothing hand running through her hair, and Ginny knew her mother sat beside her.

"Mom..?" Ginny rasped, her throat parched and dry, yet still she shook with unshed tears.

"Yes dear, I'm right here." Slowly, Ginny uncurled and forced herself into a sitting position despite her mother's protests. "I'd ask how you are feeling dear, but I'll take a guess as too fine?"

In truth, Ginny felt anything but. She felt naked, abused. Every muscle hurt from sheer tension but Ginny knew she couldn't show any of these things yet, lest it worry her already troubled mother more. "Sore. That's about it." Ginny rubbed quietly at her shoulders, and suppressed the smile that tormented her lips when she felt her Harry press his hands to her shoulders in a massage, "_I thought I'd lost you. You've no idea how worried I was, Love..."_

_I'm fine, Harry. Nothing serious._ She whispered mentally to her dream, and found that even if it was fake, the massage was relaxing. Again, that age old question tormented her, just what was happening to her? She ignored it, brushing the question to one side as she focused on her mother, "Mom, what are you doing here? What's going on?"

Yet before her mother could answer, another, colder, more sinister voice spoke up, "Your mother is here in case you should require transport home, Weasley." Snape sneered in a cold voice as he approached the bed side, his blue eyes glaring down into Ginny's brown, "As it stands, Assault is a crime, and even amongst the wizarding world it would be considered grounds for expulsion and trial before the ministry."

"Oh come now Severus, you don't _actually think_ that my daughter had anything to do with the attack, do you?" Molly said scornfully as she turned towards Snape, But Ginny merely shook her head. Snape would love to get her sent home, to get her out of here, any way he could, especially if it made her look bad. Ginny only sneered at Snape, "I get attacked, and then blamed for it? How does that even make sense?"

"Why were you outside the castle at night, Ms. Weasley?" Snape hissed in a voice just as scornful. "Perhaps out fawning over that pathetic Po- "

"Don't you dare speak his name!" Ginny snarled, and in that same moment a vase of water sitting next to her bed shattered into a million pieces, causing everyone present to jump in shock. Snape glared at her even more forcefully then, "I would suggest Ms. Weasley," He snarled, stepping closer to the bed, "that you control yourself and your emotions."

It took every ounce of control Ginny had at that moment not to lash out at Snape, but with Harry's hand on her shoulder, restraining her, she was able to pull it off. "Yes sir." She growled tersely.

"Now then," Snape continued as if uninterrupted by Ginny, "It would appear as though a fight broke out between yourself and several Slytherins. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And did you not try to defend yourself?"

"Yes but-"

"Given the circumstances, it would appear as though _some_ form of punishment is in order, Ms. Weasley."

"Dammit professor, would you at least listen to me?!" Ginny snarled in frustration, and though the look of hatred and promised wrath shown on Snape's face, he let out a snarled, "Continue."

"I was on my way back from Hagrid's after _detention_ _sir_, when Pansy and three of her cronies attacked _me_. I barely had time to get a shield charm off before they wrestled me to the ground. Next, Pansy tried to take a knife to my scalp, _professor_." The look of shock and concern on her mother's face was enough to nearly make Ginny stop, but she knew she had to make Snape understand. Something told her, she couldn't leave Hogwarts just yet. She had to stay there.

"After that, I…" Stopping suddenly, Ginny frowned. What had happened after that? She had been so sure that the next point was crucial, but… it wasn't there. Ginny couldn't remember a single detail after the blade was pressed to her scalp till the moment she awoke to the screams.

"Go on…" Snape whispered, intent upon her face, until a look of satisfaction seemed to drift over his face when Ginny shook her head.

"I don't remember sir. The next thing I knew, I was waking up, covered in blood, and Pansy was screaming. I passed out after that, and then woke up here. That's the honest truth."

Snape remained as he was for several long moments; staring at her in silent contemplation until finally he pulled from under his sleeve a single, slender maple wand. He murmured a quick incantation, and then two things happened. First, a miniscule bubble erupted from the tip before popping with a light crack, and then a dull glow took to the tip of the wand. "Prior Incantato. It would _seem_, Ms. Weasley, that you are telling the truth."

Quietly, Snape set her wand down on the nightstand where the broken vase was, "As it so happens, each of the girls from last night's incident express lack of recollection past the moment with the knife. It would appear as though someone has tampered with each of your memories. Be that as it may," Snape snarled as he leaned in over the bed, "Break another rule, Ms. Weasley, and you'll be on a one way trip home. Much like Ms. Parkinson in fact."

Ginny's head snapped back at that, staring up in shock at Snape. "Excuse me?"

"Yes… as it is, Ms. Parkinson is awaiting escort home where she will then be taken before the ministry for her charges."

Ginny honestly couldn't believe what she was hearing. Snape was actually sending someone home, one of his own students in fact, to face trial. "What charges?" She whispered lightly.

"Attempted use of the killing curse against a human being."

***

Over the next few days, several members of the D.A came to visit Ginny in the hospital, and brought her news of the outside world. Apparently, Pansy had been escorted from the school, chains and all, by a pair of dementors. The amusing bit was how the teachers got her off the tree. The ice it would seem, would not melt by means of any fire spell, nor torch. It would eventually melt, but not without pulling every hair from Pansy's skull. So, to obtain a premature release it was decided that sheering her hair off was the only way. And so, Pansy was now… bald.

Aside from this, there was little to be said about what'd happened, aside from a myriad of questions. The other girls had been spared anything more then a few vicious cuts and multiple broken bones. The main interest was _what_ had caused the injuries, what had wiped their memories, and _what_ had Pansy been trying to kill?

In the end, no one had any answers. Ginny had to endure endless hours of her mother fawning over her until she was sure that Ginny was fine and she was forced to go home. Ginny, in turn, spent endless hours indulging in her latest addiction, broken only by Hagrid stopping by to apologize for what had happened. Apparently, the attack had been well thought out, because prior to assaulting Ginny, the girls had sealed Hagrid's door shut with both a locking charm, and an unbreakable charm.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Ginny was released back to class. She spent most of it either trying to puzzle out the going on of that one night, working with those of the D.A, or receiving punishment for refusing the Carrow's teachings.

Three nights before Halloween, Ginny was once again treating sore muscles, cramps, and bleeding cuts upon her back where Alecto Carrow had had her whipped for laughing and encouraging Neville when he had made the comment about how much Muggle blood Alecto had in her.

"_Gods, their really tearing you up Ginny… I'm so sorry…"_

She smiled weakly over her shoulder at her Harry, shaking her head, "Not your fault. None of this is. We chose this, brought this on ourselves. And we'll see it through, to the end."

Silently, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and Ginny could almost swear she felt his heart beating against her shoulders. Reality and dreams seemed to be blurring more and more lately, and Ginny was truly beginning to question her sanity.

"_Well, don't worry love. We're almost there. We've got one of them! Finally, we did it!"_

Startled, Ginny turned a quizzical look on him. He'd never talked about himself, or what he was doing during their time together, and Ginny had always attributed it to her memory and mind simply making him seem more real. So, what was this then?

"Got what, Harry?"

"_One of the Horcruxes of course! Umbridge had this one, and we've been trying to figure out a way to get it for_ weeks_, but we finally did it! We got inside the ministry and snatched it from her! It was close though…"_ Harry seemed to fade ever so slightly at that, as if unsure if he should continue, "_We nearly lost it all. Hermione and I nearly got caught, same with Ron. We apparated out of there fast enough though, 'cept Yaxley grabbed onto Hermione and followed us. Hermione got free though, and pulled us into another Apparation. Ron.... Ron spliced himself. Lost a bit of his arm."_ Ginny's heart leaped at that, fear shooting through her for her brother, but also the others. Was it true? Had they truly attempted an assault on the ministry? But how could that be? How could this dream of hers know that? No, surely it was only that, only a dream. Stress was getting to her heavily, it must have been.

Yet she couldn't help but feel a wave of sympathy for her Harry, for the pain he would be experiencing if he was real. "I'm so sorry Harry…" she whispered as she took his hand in hers, and he nodded. This time, it was him who was nearly in tears.

"_It was so close. So effing close. Another second, if we'd been even a moment off…Gods, Ginny. I miss you so much right now."_ She pulled him close to her then, holding him tightly to her. It was in these moments when he felt almost real, as if he was actually sitting there with her, "I know, Harry. I know. I miss you too, babe. Gods, but I love you. You're so strong. You're out there, right now. Making a difference. And I'm stuck in here, twiddling my effing thumbs." He had let her hold him while she spoke, but at those words, he pulled back, His emerald green eyes meeting hers, "_What are you saying Ginny? You're one of the strongest women I've ever met. I mean, look at you. You're strong, talented, beautiful. Can play Quidditch better then half the school, hell you're even a stunning witch if you put yourself to it. You make a decision, and you stick to it. You don't let anyone change your mind, or who you are."_

Ginny found herself blushing at that, and shook her head, "Says you. You're bound to say all that stuff, being a dream."

Harry only laughed at that, and then hugged her, "_Well, dream or no. I love you Ginny Weasley. Ain't nothin' gonna change that."_

They stayed like that, holding each other for several long moments until movement from the other side of the door made them jump away from each other as if scalded. Ginny realized then her lack of a shirt (she'd still been cleaning her wounds and a shirt would prove problematic to that) and jumped for the nearest cloth she could cover herself with. She ended up with half the bedspread over herself when Anna Mckinzie, a sixth year like her, stepped into the doorway and stopped short. Ginny stood against the far wall, bedspread covering her decency, eyes wide and wild like a spooked cat. To say that Ginny looked guilty, if not worse, was an understatement, and the knowledge only served to make her cheeks burn all the brighter, bringing on her famous Weasley blush.

"Gin-ny..? Everything okay?" Anna asked, cocking her head slightly as a small, devious smile touched her lips.

"Hmm? Er, yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Just fine. Why wouldn't they be fine?" She answered too fast and cursed inwardly, wrapping the bedspread around herself. Gods, but this just _looked_ wrong.

"You sure?" Anna mewled teasingly, stepping into the room and setting her things down. She turned on Ginny like a wolf scenting a deer. "You wouldn't be _hiding_ anybody up here, would you? It has been awhile since you've been with a guy, I know.."

Ginny flushed even more scarlet, and she felt Harry's dismay inwardly. "_Been with a guy? What's she mean Gin?"_

_Nothing, she's just being a fool prat. I've never been with a guy before you, aside from snogging._ Ginny whispered comforting inwardly, and wondered idly why she felt the need to. He was a dream, nothing more. A delusion. A delusion that was currently sitting on Anna's bed and staring at the girl.

"_I've never seen her before…huh. She's in your grade?"_

"Yes." Ginny said aloud without realizing it, and Anna perked up.

"Oh, so you are hiding someone then? Who is it then? Michael? Oh, he was cute, wasn't he?" Anna started off quickly, her eyes darting around the room, in what Ginny could only assume was her search for Michael.

"No! No, Anna, I'm not hiding anyone up here, and you know it! Guys can't come in the girls' dorm, duh."

Anna shot her a scathing, disbelieving look, her smile wider then ever, which then turned to that, 'just between us girls' type of look. "You know, I heard Lav used to sneak Ron up into her dorm… bet she could get Michael up here for you if you really wanted… I wouldn't mind."

"What?! No! Merlin's beard Anna, that's my brother you're talking about! And I'll have you know, Michael's not all that good, snogging or otherwise, you brainless git!"

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_ Harry said as he whirled on Ginny, startled.

_It MEANS, that his skills as a wizard were second rate at best, he just fronted a lot, and his snogging left something to be desired, okay? Can we please not talk about this, its rather confusing trying to remember to talk in my head and not aloud._

"_Oh, I dunno,"_ Harry quipped with a shrug and a grin, "_I'm finding it rather amusing."_

Ginny glared daggers at him, yet smiled slightly. It'd been awhile since they'd just had fun like this. It was something she would have done with the real Harry. Gods, how she missed him right now.

Anna, in turn, smiled back, holding her hands up in mock surrender, before quietly sitting back on her bed, "Alright, alright. So what's the real reason you're up here without a shirt on then, if it's not for some guy? Michael or no."

Ginny thought it over for a few moments before relenting, turning so that her bare back was exposed to the other girl. She heard Anna wince in sympathy, and felt her move closer, "You really should be in the hospital wing. Surely Pomphrey can do something for these wounds."

Ginny shook her head as she picked up a conjured bottle of disinfectant, then the wash cloth she'd had sitting in the heated, sterile water. "Nope. Can't do that. First off, It's too late in the evening to go see Pomphrey, Second, Carrow and their croons have gotten approval from Snape that those disciplined are to be declined healing. We're said to have 'deserved it', and that by 'making us live with it', it'll 'remind us not to act in such a manner again'. Codswallop, you ask me."

"That's awful… well, surely there's something we can do, right?" Again, Ginny shook her head, "Can't heal it by magic. They'll blame it on Pomphrey, and the last thing I wanna do is cause more problems for her. Last thing this school needs is for Snape to expel her for disobeying orders."

"You know, I really hate that man." Anna growled seethingly, and Ginny couldn't help but agree. Gently, Anna whispered, "Is there anything I can do?"

Ginny grimaced, but nodded, "There is. Harry spent plenty of time in the muggle world, and made sure that I knew some of what he called, 'First Aid'. It's a muggle's way of tending to wounds and all. This bottle here," Ginny said as she held it up and shook it, "Has something called Hydrogen Peroxide in it. It's designed to clean a wound quickly, making sure that it doesn't get infected. It gets infected, and I'll be in more pain then you can imagine."

Anna nodded, then took the bottle and washcloth from Ginny as she said, "Just dab a little of that stuff on the wound, then wipe it off. I got one of the house elves to bring me up some alcohol; it's on the night stand over there."

"Ginny!" Anna gasped, "I didn't know you drank… didn't even know you could yet."

Ginny only rolled her eyes, "Not for drinking you dope. Pour a little on the wound to make sure it's clean. Least, that's what Harry said."

"How is he, anyways?" Anna said as she poured a little of the clear liquid onto the wound then nearly screamed her head off when it started foaming. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, so sorry, I ju-"

"It's fine, just wipe it off!" Ginny nearly barked through clenched teeth. The Peroxide burned insanely, and how Muggles did it, Ginny wasn't sure. Still, she'd felt worse pain before, and simply endured it as Anna cleaned the wound, then followed Ginny's explanation on how to wrap the bandages that came next, so as to prevent infection. It was during this process that Ginny finally whispered, "I don't know, to tell you the honest truth. I haven't heard word one from him, or Dad, in weeks. Dad's busy with work, I know, and Harry's…"

"Off fighting a war." Anna finished quietly, and Ginny nodded. To the side, Ginny could feel Harry's sudden depression and insurmountable pain, "_Ginny… I'm sorry. So, so, so sorry…"_

Ginny started to shake her head, to tell him it wasn't his fault, when he vanished. Panic set in for a startled second, until she felt his despair reaching out to her. Funny, she noticed it still. In fact, why was she even feeling it? It'd never happened like this before, never felt quite this… intense. Once Anna finished cleaning the cuts on her back, Ginny shrugged into her shirt and stepped closer to the window, where she could actually _feel_ his emotions radiating from.

Where was Harry? What was he doing, right this very minute? Was he even thinking of her? Ginny could only hope. She started to turn away, to head to bed where she was sure she would find her dream waiting, when something caught her eye. Far below her window, Ginny noticed what looked like a man, moving about in the evening light. While this normally would not be an odd thing, something about him struck Ginny as familiar. She had a nagging sensation that she'd seen him somewhere before, somewhere important, not just in passing or in the halls.

She found herself watching him, and was oddly struck with the notion that he was practicing something. But what? Before she could talk herself out of it, Ginny grabbed up her coat and was out the door in minutes. She descended from Gryffindor Tower as quickly as possible, out through the stairwells and paintings, and down to the ground floor. Spending as long as she had with the D.A., Ginny knew almost every way possible to avoid the teachers when they went on their nightly Splatter Campaigns.

Finally, she stepped out onto the lawn, and made her way around to the far side of the castle, where she was sure she'd seen the man. Yet as she reached the window below where her dorm was, she found nothing, no sign of anyone. Frustrated, and questioning her sanity all the more, she turned and started back for the castle, when a soft crunching noise came from beneath her foot. Stepping back, she looked down, and found herself staring at what looked like miniature gray leaves. A moment or two more, and Ginny understood what she was looking at, as remembrance struck her.

She hadn't recognized it when she woke up, and it hadn't dawned on her till now, but on the morning after the attack, her clothing had been coated in the same, gray substance that now coated the burnt grass around her.

With a startled realization, Ginny understood that she had found herself standing in a field of ash.

**To be continued…**

**C/N:** As a final note, I'd like to thank Fairqueen2 for agreeing to Beta for me. This will hopefully make things at least _**slightly**_ easier on me... Hahaha....::


	4. Chapter 4

Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of Rowlkin's Characters. If I did, I'd have circumvented Ginny getting stuck at school, and made boo-koo's more money that way.

**Warning:** This fic is rated for Violence, Gore, Strong Language, and several Adult themes. If you didn't know that already, why the hell have you not been reading the other chapters?!

A/N: … I don't really have a note to put here, so, I'm just gonna shut up and let you enjoy the story…

*Ahem*. Without further adue…:

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 4**

Winds of Change

For what felt like the umpteenth time in the past three days, Ginny rolled onto her side as she rested, trying to relieve some of the pain tormenting her. The cuts from where the whip had struck those few days ago where only now starting to heal, and Ginny knew they would likely scar. They caused sleeping to become a near impossible thing, for she was what some would call a restless sleeper, tossing and turning as she slept. Doing so though, caused those freshly scabbed cuts to burn each time they came in contact with something, which currently was her nemesis, the bed. So worn out was she now, that she had even taken to falling asleep amidst several lessons throughout the day, which only provoked more ire from the teachers.

Thankfully, McGonagall had been kind enough to send her to Pomphrey, citing a stomachache. Pomphrey had in turn, done everything in her power to ease the pain so that Ginny could finally rest. Pomphrey knew the risks of actually healing the wound, and though she would gladly have run them, Ginny insisted upon simply having her dressings changed, after which it was insisted that if nothing else, she rest there for the rest of the day.

Sadly though, the pain was not the only reason Ginny could no longer sleep. In the few short months that had passed since she first returned to school, Ginny had grown accustomed to falling asleep, and finding herself in the arms of her Harry.

And for the past two nights, he had not returned.

Ginny was starting to fear that she had somehow done something to distill the dream, her only link to Harry anymore, and her only guard against insanity.

With each passing day that Harry did not return, she felt herself growing angrier, more withdrawn. She was already starting to lash out, both towards her friends, and simply those around her.

Sighing, Ginny gave up on trying to sleep, and instead slipped out of the bed. She checked the time, and found there was still enough of it left before nightfall, and decided it as good a time as any to investigate her latest curiosity. Every night since she had noticed the man outside her window, she had returned to the field, only to find the man missing, and a fresh field of ash spread about under her window.

It was slowly growing to an infuriating annoyance, not knowing who or what was causing it. She _knew_ it had something to do with her lost hours nearly a month ago, when Pansy had attacked her. Though she had been too late to catch the man the past two nights, she had decided that instead this night, she would _wait_ for him to show, her best bet being to hide out in the shadows of the castle and shrubbery, where she would still have a clear view of the field.

Upon arrival in the field, she found several other people milling about, and decided it best to wait for them to leave before slipping into her hiding spot, so as to not draw attraction to herself by curious onlookers.

Because of this, Ginny quietly crouched down in the grass, and soon found herself enjoying the quiet stillness of the field. Too long had she simply been running on instinct, going from one moment to the next without bothering to truly stop and relax. True, she had done plenty of that when she had spent time with her Harry, but this felt… different. There was only herself, and the soft, gentle breeze, the students around her forgotten in a steady stream of thoughts and memories.

She thought back over the years, over each moment that she had passed through. She remembered with a giggle, the first time she had met Harry, the confused, lost boy of fame as he tried to figure out how to get through the gate to platform nine and three-quarters. Back then, she had not known who he was, only that he seemed… cute. Even then, with their brief meeting, she knew she had wanted to get to know him. And as the year played out, the truth of who he really was became known to her. Each letter from Ron made him seem more and more incredible, more like some kind of warrior god, bound in human flesh.

In her eyes, he became something out of myth, legend. And then, the morning of the following summer, she had come down stairs, only to find him sitting at her table, eating her food. It was only natural then, that she freak out, and lock herself in her room for god knows how many hours, trying to control not only her breathing, but also her horrid blush.

So naturally, every time she ran into him after that, she would remember her earlier embarrassment, which only brought on more of the same. And then came Tom's diary. Her first year at Hogwarts, and she had nearly turned into the one thing Harry despised over all other things. The man that had murdered his parents.

Yet again, Harry lived up to his legend, and even saved the girl, as any fairytale would tell it. Yet she was no princess, was nothing of note or intrigue. How then, could she honestly hope to ever garner such a man? Yet Hermione, her closest friend above all others, had the answer. It was not a question of who was greater, or who deserved whom. It was a question of whether or not they were ready.

And Ginny knew then, she hadn't been. She took the time to know him, to see the man beneath the legend. And in doing so, she found all her hopes, her dreams. He was kind, gentle. Strong when needed. He was a mountain, a safe haven against the storm of the world. And with each passing year, she felt her love for him grow.

And finally, after so many trials, after so much pain and heartache… He had seen her. He found the true her, let her open her heart to him. She knew the scars he carried, the burdens. The pains of a lifetime without love, without a place to call home. She knew, deep down, that this place, was all he had.

_Until You._

The words echoed through her mind with such pain, with such conviction and love that if Ginny had not been sitting her knees would have crumbled beneath her. Even as it was, she could feel the tears behind her eyes, but refused to shed them. She reached out for her dream, yet found only distance and pain, nearly crippling.

What was wrong with her? What had happened? She didn't know anymore, didn't have any answers. Darkness quickly began to take the field, and many of the students around her disappeared to more secluded places, there separate houses, or simply whatever nook and cranny they could find.

Sighing, Ginny shook her head, brushing back the tears that she felt at the edges of her eyes, and stood. There would be time for pain and despair later. Now, she had other things to do. Stepping closer to the castle, Ginny slipped between several outcroppings of stone, ducking under the shadow of the great castle walls. Now all that was left was to wait.

Hours passed as Ginny crouched in the shadowy nook, her fingers chilled to the bone, her legs numb and screaming from the position she found herself in. _Gods, where is he?!_ She nearly screamed, but kept herself from, instead deciding to stretch her legs, if only slightly. Just as she was about to stand though, motion out of the corner of her eye stilled her.

She tweaked her head ever so slightly so that she might be able to see what had caught her attention, and watched quietly as a boy only slightly older then herself made his way out into the field. From the robes he wore, Ginny marked him as a Ravenclaw, but it didn't last long. As she watched in shock, he stripped out of his robes, and further still through most of his clothing, until he stood in the pale moonlight wearing only a form-fitting tank and sweats.

Given the temperature of the night, Ginny was surprised by this turn of events, but stayed motionless as he bent low to the ground. It took her a good few moments, but Ginny finally came to the understanding that he was working out. While not all that unusual (most of the male population had some ridiculous obsession with muscles) it still entranced her to watch him move.

Within minutes, what had been simple stretches became lean, silken movements that, while beautiful to watch, if applied against a human body would leave broken bones or worse. While this seemed like the exact thing one would need to accuse the man of partaking in the fight (given the state of the other girls around Ginny when she woke), it had not been what she was looking for. This proved nothing concrete, and did nothing to explain the ash that had been coating the field for days.

Yet almost as soon as the thought passed through her head, she found what she sought. As she watched, the boy slipped through several strikes that would easily shatter collarbone and rib when one of his hands began to literally _drizzle_ ash. At first, Ginny thought some kind of affliction had happened, and nearly gave a startled yelp, but the boy paid his drizzling hand no heed. He simply continued to move through the strikes, kicks, and dismembering moves, as if nothing in the world was happening.

Having seen enough, Ginny stepped from the shadows of her little alcove, towards him, "What's wrong with your hand?" She called. Doing so though, seemed to have been the worst possible thing in the world. He froze in mid strike, every muscle along not only his shoulders, but _every inch of his body_ drawn taunt in apprehension. She understood then why he had lost most of his clothing before beginning: Not only would it have slowed him down and got in his way, but they would have been soaked through with the sweat that covered the boy's body.

He turned then, and Ginny was startled to find eyes shimmering akin to liquid steel glaring at her with a near insane hatred. "_You."_ He practically seethed, his voice laced with venom. It was in that moment that Ginny became startlingly aware of every detail about the man before her, from his slightly square jaw covered in several days' stubble, to his raven black hair, pulled free from the tie that held it at the nape of his neck so that it might spill carelessly about his face. But more then all that was the hatred that radiated off of him in waves as he stared at her. "What are you doing here?" He growled menacingly, but Ginny would not be swayed.

She'd come with a purpose, and planned to see it through. She wanted to understand what had happened to her. "It was you, wasn't it?" She said, taking a step towards the man. So still was he, that if she didn't know better she would think him carved from stone, "That night, nearly a month ago. It was you that saved me."

He growled, and looked away from her, seemingly focusing on his movements again, "No. It was a fool that saved you. Not me."

Ginny could hear it in his voice though, the guilt. Something had happened that night, and not just to her. Something important, something she was missing, "You're lying." She whispered.

This again brought all movement about his body to a stunning halt, and it was with a barely leashed wrath that he stood to his full height and faced her. Again, she found herself stunned at this man, his height nearly a good six feet, and though he was not overly muscled, it was enough to make the shadow he cast as the moon bathed over his back all the more menacing. "I do not lie, GingerLocks."

"What'd you jus-"

"Yes, GingerLocks. It suits you. And I've already told you, I did not save you. I was merely trying to stop a foolish girl from doing more harm then good. In the end, she proved more trouble then I thought her worth, so I pinned her to a tree so that the crows might wash me of my shame."

Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing, "You were there for Pansy?"

At this, he only shook his head, "No. I don't care about any of you. But I didn't want to see innocent blood shed, yours or otherwise. Stopping the girl seemed the most logical thing to do."

Ginny found herself doubting that, but was starting to put the pieces together, "It was you that Pansy had been trying to kill. She fired off a number of the killing curses, but seemingly hit nothing."

Finally, a nod, "She went mad with bloodlust, and when I tried to stop her, she attacked. And not just me, but anyone she could. And not only her, but the other girls as well; they all started to attack at random, though only Pansy struck to kill. Something intervened, and allowed me a chance to stop the entire fight. I did."

Ginny cocked her head silently as she asked, "What intervened?", yet was only met with silence on this matter. Finally, her gaze shifted to his hand again, which was now tightened into a fist at his side, "Your hand… What happened to it?"

"Nothing." He growled ferally, and Ginny knew that he would not yield on what had happened to it.

"Alright… Then would you show me what you were doing that caused it to do that? Maybe I can help, I know a few counter-curses."

This though, only brought a wolfish smile to his lips, and his eyes gleamed with a feral hunger, "The _only_ way you would ever see what I was doing, is either if you fought me, or I taught you myself."

Still, Ginny refused to let that be the end of it, "Fine then, teach me."

He only stared at her then, a look of puzzlement on his face, "What?"

"I said," She stressed the words so that even someone deft and stupid would be able to understand them, "That if that's the case, teach me. I want to help."

"Why?" He growled again.

Ginny was silent for a long moment then, considering. Why did she want to help? But in the end, she knew. Something about him, _something_ was important. The hours that she lost, the rage that she felt boiling inside her every time she looked at another human being, the pain that she felt whenever she thought of how she missed Harry, all of it. Somehow, he was important to it; was the key. It sounded mad, she knew, but there was no other explanation that she could come up with.

"Because I need to."

He stared at her for several long minutes; those inhuman silver eyes boring into her, until finally a smile broke out across his lips. He threw back his head then, and roared with laughter, just as the night's fireworks took to the sky. Halloween was in full swing inside the castle, it would seem.

"Alright. I'll teach you." He murmured, a pleased look on his face, illuminated by the fireworks above, "For a price."

Ginny hesitated for a minute, then finally spoke, unease at this turn of events seeping into her voice, "Alright…"

He stepped closer then, and though Ginny wanted to run, she forced herself to stay rooted to the ground, to stay in place as he prowled across the field towards her. Finally, when he was but a foot from her, he stopped, and dipped his head to her ever so slightly, "I'll teach you… For a kiss."

Shock took her for all of five seconds, before outrage registered in her mind and pushed her into action. _How dare he!!_ Her mind roared, and just as with Malfoy, her fist snapped forward faster then she could blink.

But he was faster.

One moment, she was sure her fist would crush his nose into oblivion, the next the side of his hand was brushing her fist aside as if it were nothing more then an annoying bug, "Not nearly fast enough." He murmured, and dealt her a blow that sent her reeling to the ground.

"Try that again, Ginger, and I will break that hand of yours." He whispered promisingly, then turned and strode back towards his pile of clothing, dismissing her.

But she refused to let it end like that. Refused to bow to a man with that much of an ego. With each step he took, Ginny forced herself to her feet, until she was snarling out curses at the back of his head. "You think you're so fucking great?! That you're so special? You're nothing but a coward!" She roared.

He stopped dead in his tracks, and didn't even bother to look back at her, "What?" He whispered coolly.

"You heard me! If you weren't a coward, then you'd face me head on in a duel!"

Finally, he turned his head so that he was staring directly at her, his silver eyes gleaming with that same, inhuman joy, "Then a duel you shall have. Tonight, at midnight, on the edge of the Dark Forest. We'll see who's truly a coward."

And as he walked away, Ginny was struck with a notion that she had just made a very big mistake.

To be Continued…

**C/N:** Okay. SO! That was interesting. XD.

Yes, I know, the man is insane, and needs to be put on a leash. Yes, I KNOW he shouldn't have tried to kiss Ginny. It was just too awesome of an opportunity to pass up. I wanted to make it known that Ginny IS NOT the strongest out there. We all know that, but people have a tendency to make their characters have no faults, what-so-ever. Ginny has tons of them. As do a lot of people. Even insane boy over there.

As a final note, I would make sure that you understand what he looks like. I've heard other people describe someone one way in a book, and then when it was translated to a movie, they look entirely different. To put it simply, picture Orlando Bloom from "At Worlds End" of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" Saga. Give him silver, glowing eyes, and you have our man.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Ginny, nor any of Rowlkin's characters. Everything else... **IS MINE BITCH, YOU CAN'T HAVE! -growls menacingly-**

**Warning: This fic is rated for violence, bloodshed, strong language, and Several Adult Themes.**

A/N: I'm off my meds, I swear.

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 5**

_**All Hollows Eve**_

Ginny could feel her hands shaking as she slipped from her bed and across the floor. She'd made it seem like she'd gone to sleep for her roommates, opting to wear her clothing to bed, a pair of jeans and a deep green sweater over her tank-top, but found it unnecessary as none of them had come back to the dorm yet. _Bunch of pansy-ass-snogging-wankers! My god, all they do is snog all day!_ She thought as she pulled her Gryffindor cloak from the coat rack near the door, clasping it about her throat before stepping outside. Ginny knew that wasn't really the truth, but nerves were getting to her.

She'd let her anger get the better of her, and challenged a man that had not only saved her life (she knew that if Pansy had gotten the chance, she likely would have killed her), but had taken down four other witches doing so. Whoever he was, he was extremely skilled, and Ginny doubted she had much chance of actually winning. But, as she'd let her mouth go before checking in with her brain, she'd gone off and called him a coward.

_That_, was the absolute worst possible thing you could ever call a warrior. Not because it was hurtful to them, oh no. It became a challenge to their honor, and that was one thing they did _not_ take lightly.

He would be there, she had no doubt. And if she wasn't, he'd come for her with a vengeance. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past few hours, Ginny cursed her own bull-headedness, her own stupidity.

Still, she had no choice in the matter, and simply focused on getting there. Getting caught on the way there was simply not an acceptable excuse, and he would likely crucify her if she tried to use it. Suddenly, the image of herself, stuck to the castle wall, pinned by shards of ice flashed through her mind. Gods, she didn't want that to happen. Forcing herself to calm down again, She slipped past the last sentinel between the castle and the outside world, and quietly began to ghost across the freshly dewed field.

As she did, she contemplated what she knew of her foe, which was sadly little. He was insanely fast, could snap bones with his pinky (she wouldn't be surprised), and obviously had control over some kind of unheard-of magic. What she didn't understand (aside from him obviously being senile, and at such a young age too) was his blatant hostility towards her. She had a feeling that whatever the cause for his hostility, it was linked somehow with everything else.

Stepping over the border of the trees, Ginny drew her wand out, and instinctively cast a furtive glance about her for any sign of her foe. They had not actually designated a clear cut area, aside form "The edge of the Dark Forest", which was rather unhelpful. Where was he supposed to be? Yet no sooner had she thought it, he stepped from the shadows of one of the nearby trees. He'd ditched most of the normal robes of Ravenclaw, instead preferring his own long coat, belted about his waist. Accenting this was yet more black, both in the button-down he wore and in the slacks, finished with a pair of boots.

"You're late." He growled, and Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"By only a minute or two." She said quietly, and then added, "Sorry."

It took him several long moments, but he finally nodded, accepting her apology. _One small step, one giant leap for Ginny Weasley._ She thought. Silently, he motioned for her to follow, and after a moments consideration of the logic of this course of action, she fell into step behind him. As it turned out though, he did not take her deeper into the forest, only to a wider cove amongst the trees. He motioned again for her to stop as he proceeded into the clearing, and within moments she could almost feel the charms he was casting layer out around them.

Once done, he turned back to her, twirling his wand between his fingers, "Begin when you are ready. We fight until either concession, or unconsciousness."

She hesitated for a moment, and then bowed. He reciprocated, and as soon as he came was straight again, Ginny let loose her first spell, "_Expelliarmus!"_ She roared, but already he was moving. His shield charm shimmered into life two feet in front of him, and snapped her spell in half, whilst he moved in for his own disarming spell.

Much like him, her charm caught and shattered his spell, and within moments they were fully engrossed in their battle, stunning spells flying back and forth, disarming, and any jinxes they could think of.

They clashed for several minutes, until Ginny misstepped between spells. Silver eyes saw it, and pressed the sudden advantage with murderous glee, his wand flashing out with disarming blast after blast.

"_Reducto!"_ He roared, and Ginny barely caught the blast against her shield charm. As it was, the shield was not enough, shattering with an inward implosion that sent Ginny flying backwards. Pain laced up her arm, only to be eclipsed by the pain along her spine and the back of her head, the cuts across her back flaring into agony. Dizziness took her for all of several seconds, stunned by the sheer force of the spell.

Finally though, she shook her head, trying to clear her head, and found herself slumped against one of the trees, and bracing against it with one hand, she pulled herself back to her feet. She looked across the clearing to where silver eyes stood waiting, his long coat fluttering in the wind, his eyes never wavering. Once Ginny was back on her feet, she took a moment to glance at her wand arm, and found the arm covered in blood, small lacerations tracing along her skin. The entire sleeve of her robes had been blasted into dust, and with a sigh she unhooked her cloak and let it fall to one side.

Though her arm hurt horribly, she ignored it and took up her wand again, facing silver eyes again. He nodded in approval, dipping into another bow that she mimicked, and they began again.

Again their spells clashed; flashes of light illuminating the glaive and casting ominous shadows about them. Their paces quickened, their movements becoming more harried as each tried to gain the upper hand over their foe, and if one was to be looking in from the outside, they would say it was a beautiful, yet deadly dance that they wove.

Again, Ginny found herself on the defensive against silver eyes' onslaught. His every move led into the next, every flick of his wand casting back and forth between shield, hex, jinx, and Charm. It was an infuriating watching those cold silver eyes, never wavering as he tried to dismember her.

Again, she misstepped between spells, and her shield charm suffered for it. Again, he took the advantage and blasted through her shield, sending her reeling to the ground. At this point, her sweater was all but sleeveless, and Ginny gritted her teeth against the pain that washed over her. She took solace in the cool dirt now pressing against her bare forearms, wondering how badly it would hurt to simply give up, to simply let him have the victory.

But she had a feeling that this duel meant more then just a simple battle of wills, or honor. There was something else, hidden just beneath the surface, a cold certainty that told her that losing this battle was equal to death. She fought the chill that seeped across her body then, fought the cold dread of death's embrace. Everyone died at some point.

_I just don't want to die yet._

She found herself terrified of the prospect, of the realization that she might never see her family again, might never step through the great halls of Hogwarts, would never fly another broom in her life. Would never gaze upon those emerald eyes that she loved ever again. She felt the fear swell within her, rooting her to the ground.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

The words whispered across the glaive, startling Ginny from her reverie. She looked up from where she lay, into those ominous silver eyes, and the look upon his face told her that he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.

"What?" she whispered.

"It is an old saying. To put it simply, it means this: live your life. Fight for what you want, take whatever you can. Death will come when it comes. Have no regrets when it does."

And as he spoke, Ginny came to an understanding. As she looked at him, she saw the sureness of his stance, the confidence that surrounded him like a hurricane. All that stood in his way would be either swallowed up by it, or destroyed. To him, she was but just one more obstacle, one more hill to climb.

_He doesn't fear death._

It seemed an odd statement to make, but the more she considered it, the more she came to understand him, and the battle. From the moment he had first encountered her at the edge of the forest, the battle had begun. Not with wands, but in their minds. With each movement, each step and strike, it had seemed as though he grew faster. This was not so. Instead, she had slowed, fear and trepidation slowing her movements. She had let him into her mind without even a single spell, and he had gleefully anchored her to the ground, securing it more and more with each second.

Slowly, his insane, wolfish smile alighted upon his face, and Ginny could only feel it mimicked upon her own. She pulled herself to her feet again, and stopped worrying about tomorrow. Stopped looking for the next strike, the blow that would kill her. As she did, she could almost _feel_ the chains that had bound her crumble. She smiled again, and raised her wand, not bothering to bow. He matched her, and they began again.

This time though, everything was different. The wind seemed to have taken her side, flowing with her every move. Gleefully, she stepped into a dance with her foe, spells rebounding off each other with such force that the tree's about them shook as they collided. Again and again they flashed, breaking against each other in a madman's light show.

Ginny had never felt sheer joy like this before; felt this light as she moved. Each blow only brought more speed to her step, and slowly she began to laugh with each clash. There was an insane joy to be had in this dance, and she found herself revealing in it gladly. As she did, she began to see a flow to the battle, to each movement and spell. And then an idea struck her. As she moved through a quick disarming spell, she spun to one side, dodging past one of his own, and took aim.

Not at him, but at the ground below him. "_Bombarda!"_ She roared. He diffused her initial disarming spell, and caught the blasting charm against his shield, but realized a moment too late that he had not been the spells target. The ground shattered, exploding into a cloud of dirt and debris, and instinctively one arm rose to shield his eyes from contact.

Ginny howled with victory at this, for his guard had dropped, if only for a moment. She wanted him to pay then for what he'd done, to understand truly that he was a fool to have challenged her, for standing against her. And she knew just the spell, knew it would work. "_Sectumsempra!"_ She roared, and felt the dark spell rip across the clearing towards her helpless foe.

And then something she had not been expecting happened. One moment, he was blocking the debris of her explosion charm, and then the next his hand slashed through the air before him. For a second, Ginny could swear she saw a flicker of light upon his middle finger, but it disappeared as every plant and tree around him _lurched_ forward, water literally ripping forth from them. It coalesced into a solid wall of water before him and Ginny stared in stunned amazement as her spell hit the wall then shattered. But it didn't end there.

The wall rushed forward, and Ginny had but a second to get a shield charm up between herself and the magical water. Yet, it did no good, for as the water connected with the shield, the shield simply flickered, then winked out of existence. The wave crashed over her, lifting her off the ground for but a moment before slamming her into one of the trees. Ginny screamed out in pain, the force of the water whip lashing her so forcefully that she felt her wand fly from her fingers.

Next, there came a burning cold, her entire body chilled past the bone, the sensation akin to a thousand sharp needles driven into her flesh. Her eyes flashed open, the breath stolen from her lungs so that she might not scream again, then her gaze flew over her body. She stood pinned to the tree, frozen as the wave turned to literal ice before her eyes. She wreathed and tried to scream, until she realized that he had silenced her.

Her gaze flickered upwards then, and she met his glimmering silver eyes, now filled with confusion and concern. "Ginger, calm yourself. The battle is over. You live another day."

She didn't want to, didn't know what he was talking about. She wanted to fight, to rip, shred. To tear the life from his body with a maddening glee. She felt the cold intensify, and bit back another scream. And then, as though someone had simply flipped a switch she found herself crying, weeping as exhaustion took her, pain assailed her. All the pains and troubles of the world, of her life came crashing back down onto her. She felt her voice return, and within moments she was screaming and sobbing.

"What's happening to me?!" Her voice echoed into the night, sending the birds of the trees alight to the sky. Her bleary gaze fell back on the man, and in a voice so hushed and broken she was sure he would never understand, she whispered, "Who are you?"

He was silent for several long moments after that, letting her cries die out until they were bare hiccups. Slowly then, he approached her, "Nicolas Fenrir." He whispered, and shook his head, "And I don't know. I'd thought I'd fixed it when I wiped your memory, but its still there."

He started towards her again, when all her fury returned, came flowing back in a torrent of absolute rage at the man. He'd dared to touch her, to touch upon her mind? And then the rage passed, and in it's wake she saw the world with absolute clarity. Saw every detail of his face, from the slight swirl of his eyes, to the sweat that beaded nervously across his forehead. She saw the decay of the plants beyond him, where the water had been ripped from them, saw the cracking of each leaf, heard the flutter of wing as a crow not five feet to her right alight upon the branches of the tree.

And beyond that, she _felt_ all of it, every inch of the glaive and beyond within her, as if each one pulsed in time with her heart.

He paused then, a look of startled bewilderment upon his face, and she took her chance. She pulled on everything, every pulse of energy within her, every strand of anger, everything she could muster. She felt it flow into her, and with a bellowed scream that echoed off the castle walls in the distance, she shattered the ice holding her, letting the energy she held flow into it in a torrent.

The ice shattered and flew across the glaive, slamming into Nicholas and throwing him back to slam into the ground where he simply rolled for a good three feet before coming to a halt. Ginny fell from the tree then, and stayed crouched for a moment, afraid that she had somehow killed Nicholas.

With a grunt and a snarled curse though, he pushed himself to his hands and knees, shaking his head, "What the hell are you?" He barked, and threw an irritated glare at Ginny.

She was about to answer him honestly, that she simply didn't know anymore, when she _felt_ the world rise up into her mind again. She felt the ebb and flow of everything around her, and was suddenly aware of another presence to her left. She felt it reach out across the glaive even as her eyes saw the shattered ice rise up around Nicholas. He gave a startled yelp of confusion before the ice slammed into him and pinned him to a tree much in the same way he had pinned her.

"You ever touch my girlfriend again, I'll kill you!" She heard the words, heard the voice, but couldn't believe them. Stunned beyond words, she turned to find her Harry striding out from the trees; his face contorted with rage, a hand raised in a fist. Through the pulses she felt radiating from him and everything around her, she knew that it was by his hand that Nicholas was now frozen to the tree.

"H-harry...? Wha-? How-?" She started, until another voice overrode hers.

"Potter! What the hell man? What are you even doing here?!" Nicholas roared from his perch against the tree, as if it was only a minor inconvenience

"What the hell do you mean, 'what am I doing here'?! This is my fucking dream, and I'll be damned if I let some bastard take my girlfriend out of my own dream!" Harry roared in return, and Ginny couldn't decide who to stare at in confusion more.

"Wait, Nicholas, you can see him?" she asked cautiously.

"Course I can see him! His crazy ass is standing right there, when he should be out hunting down a way to kill You-know-who!"

"Maybe I have, and I just thought I should try it before I face him directly." Harry snarled, yet Ginny only ignored that statement.

"But that's impossible. He's in my head. He's not here. It's not possible. What the hell is going on?" She whispered.

"You're head?" Harry said startled, and turned to her, "What're you talking about Gin? This is my dream... isn't it..?"

They stared at each other for several long moments as the seriousness of what their latest discovery meant. Everything, _every last thing_ that had happened over the past four months... it had all been real. Blushes subsequently took to both of their faces as they thought on some of their... less then savory, yet definitely pleasurable behavior.

"Well, ain't this adorable. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go gag myself." Nicholas said with a snort, breaking the moment between the two lovebirds. Ginny felt him perform an act similar to her own, pulling in the very essence of the world around him, yet unlike her, he applied the pressure gently. Ginny noticed then that the pulses seemed to be radiating from his left hand, the _same_ hand in fact, that she'd noticed the glimmer before.

The ice cracked around him, then melted into water again, releasing him from his bonds. As he fell back to the earth, he motioned with his left again, and the water seemingly returned to the plants from whence it came. He flexed his arms, rolling his head on his shoulders absently, and then turned away.

"I'll let you two lovebirds enjoy your newly rekindled relationship. I'll see what I can dig up though. Oh and Ginger," He said, stopping at the edge of the trees, "I'll see you tomorrow after classes. Five o'clock sharp."

Her head snapped back at that, bewildered, "See me? See me why?"

Again, he shook his head, and turned back towards her and Harry, "Simple. First, you did something. I dunno what, I dunno how or why, but you did. My magic won't work till either I kill you, or I teach you. Seeing as how you don't wanna die-"

"Not like I'd let you-" Harry snarled, Yet Nicholas ignored him, "That leaves only me teaching you. Second, you _broke_ my Ice Shell. No mage has _ever_ done that. You manifested enough magic and power to shatter it, which means that you've got a _lot_ of power in you, and its all waking up. Probably why your emotions are going haywire. So either you learn to control it-" He said, turning and starting for the school again,

"Or you Kill us All."

**To be Continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny, nor any of Rowling's Characters. So don't you dare pester me over such ridiculous crud.

**Warning: **this fic is rated for violence, bloodshed, strong language, and several Adult themes.

A/N: Hiyo! Welcome back guys. Sorry about that, daily life kicked in over the past couple days, and I haven't had two seconds to myself to write! T-T But, rest assured, I'll be writing and posting whenever I can. Anyways, without further adue:

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 6**

**Truth's Beginning**

The rest of the early morning found Ginny awake in her bed, spending whatever time she could with Harry. She'd bandaged her arm, not wanting to miss a single moment with her love. And to think that all these months, she'd had him right here with her, and never even realized it. She cursed herself for her own stupidity, for not realizing earlier the truth of what had been with her. Yet, as Harry had said, "We knew, all along. We just didn't know it. Our bodies did though."

And he was right. She thought back over all the times that she had been in his arms. The comfort, the warmth it brought her. She had long considered him to be her safe haven, her refuge. And when she had needed him most, he _had_ been there. How it had happened they weren't sure, but Ginny made the assumption this time. "Soul mate." She mused softly, her lips brushing in the lightest teasing manner she could over his, and he groaned in an effort to control himself.

"Hmm?" He murmured back, and nipped at her lower lip. Two could play at that game, it would seem. "Hmmm… Soul Mates, eh?" He was quiet then for a long time, and Ginny only watched his emerald green eyes as he rolled the thought about in his head. Finally, he nodded, a smile spreading over his lips. "Makes sense. My soul is bound to you, Ginny Weasley, and wherever you are, I'll be there too. So it's only natural then that we're soul mates."

She shook her head then, "Nope, all wrong." He quirked an eyebrow then in question, but remained silent so that she might elaborate. "My name…" She said as she climbed onto him, straddling his waist and positioning herself over him in the most teasing of manners, "is Ginevra. Molly. Potter."

His eyes flew wide at that, and he stared up into her two fully golden orbs, her smile more lovely then all the stars in the night's sky. Slowly, she placed her hand over his heart, and in turn he did the same to her, the absolute love flowing between them as though a river, "And with this vow, I bind my soul to you, Harry James Potter." And with that she lowered herself onto him. The moment she did, she gasped out, not in pain, but in shock and bewilderment. She saw herself, atop him, and though at first she found herself confused, she began to understand that she was seeing herself… through his eyes, and he in turn through hers. In that moment, their bodies became as one, sharing each-others feelings, emotions.

And when they made love, they forever sealed the bonds: their souls entwined for all of eternity. But that is a tale for another time.

***

When Ginny woke next, it was with a warm contentment. She rolled over, and though he was absent from her bed, she could feel him in her very heart. Harry. Hers, for all time. She let out a delighted little giggle, and rolled out of bed to take assessment of the room. All four beds had been shattered throughout the early mornings hours, as had most of the nightstands. The trunks lay in scattered disarray that Ginny barely seemed to notice. Calmly, she sorted through the carnage that was her dorm until she found decent clothing to wear. As she buttoned her jeans into place, she heard the door creak, and a small gasp escape. Ginny cursed herself for not thinking to keep the locking charm in place throughout the morning, until she had had the chance to fix the room. Instead, she turned to the very bright blush of Anna, her eyes wide as she first surveyed the wreckage of the bedroom, then Ginny, who stood with the most serene, beautiful smile on her face.

"Oh my god girl!" Anna squeaked, then shook her head and made her way into the room, ignoring the wreckage. With the most delighted giggle Ginny had ever heard, Anna hugged her.

When she pulled back, she shook her head in stunned amazement, "Wow Gin… you really know how to make a night out of something…"

Ginny only rolled her eyes, but found herself laughing along side Anna. It'd been a long, long time since she felt this happy. "I was going to fix it but…"

"Nonsense Gin! I'll handle clean-up. This ain't nothin' compared to my brother and one of his "kegger" parties, trust me. He used to throw some of the wildest muggle parties you've ever seen." She pulled her wand, then glanced over her shoulder at Ginny, "You still here? Go, enjoy your day. I can handle this in a few moments."

With a little shove, Ginny found herself laughing as Anna closed the dorm room doors. Deciding to make the most of it, Ginny made her way first to the Hospital Wing, where she had her arm looked at. From there, she spent the rest of the day gliding along dreamily, much to the bewildered looks of her classmates and friends. This, while definitely a change for the better, was an odd change in her behavior. Many worried over her, but she simply told them that she had found a little piece of happiness, and that everything was fine. She refused to elaborate farther then that, and she managed to successfully make it through the day on her cloud nine high.

Then, two things happened. First, Ginny found herself called to Snape's office. She passed through the gargoyle, and up the winding staircase, and knocked quietly at the door. Upon entering, she found herself surrounded by the headmasters of old, most snoozing in their frames. At the center of the room, sat a very long, greasy haired man, who looked as though he had too many things on his mind. Silently, he stood and moved around the table until he stood squarely before her. He stared into her eyes for several long moments, and she returned the favor, not willing to a bow to his ego either. Instead of arrogance though, what she found was pain. Anger, bitter, and sharp in his eyes.

She found herself at a loss at the intensity of his gaze, and broke off, glancing around the room for several long moments. She let her eyes drift over the sorting hat, sitting piously on a bookshelf by itself. Over the pensive, Fawks. And out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glimmer of the sword that Harry had used oh so many years ago to slay a Basilisk, and free a dying girl.

Snape cleared his throat, and drew Ginny's attention back to him then, and then to what he held in his hand. It was a black and red cloak, badly deteriorated, and covered in mud. "This was found, this morning at the edge of the Dark Forest. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you, Ms. Weasley?" Snape sneered coolly, and though Ginny's heart skipped several beats she knew she had done nothing wrong. _Technically_.

"No. Why? Did I do something wrong professor?" Ginny lied smoothly, not letting her fear and trepidation seep through the mask she wore in front of Snape. He watched her closely for several minutes more, and then shook his head, walking away.

"That'll be all, Ms. Weasley."

Ginny nodded, and then calmly stepped outside the Headmasters office, where she promptly rushed down the stairs and away.

The next came in the form of a note on her pillow when she returned to her newly repaired dorm, where not a thing was out of place.

_Form fitting, nothing too loose._

_5 o'clock._

In all her joy over everything that had happened that morning, she'd nearly forgotten her lessons with Nicholas. She cast a glance over her shoulder, to where her clock rested on the nightstand. _Five minutes till._

"Oh shit!" She yelped, and nearly kicked her trunk open. She searched for several seconds until she found a suitable tank, and decided her jeans would have to do. Changing shirts, she grabbed her sweater on her way out the door and threw it on as she flew down the stairs. Seamus was at the bottom, and she nearly bowled him over.

"Oi, watch it Gin!" He hollered after her, but she merely waved him off in apology. She came racing across the field to where Nicolas sat, silently watching the wind brush the grass too and fro, and let her catch her breath.

"You're late, Ginger." He whispered, but she waved him off.

"Accident. Snape called, couldn't avoid it."

Nicholas snarled and flew from where he was sitting to her throat so fast she barely registered him moving before his hand clasped around her throat, " Alright then, when you go fucking crazy and kill the whole damn school, We'll just say 'it was Snape's fault, it couldn't be avoided.' And all will be well and forgiven, no?"

She glared into his swirling silver eyes, then shook her head, "No, sir."

He stared for a moment more, then nodded and released her. "Good. I expect you to be on time to our next meeting, Ginger. Lie if you have to, I don't care. But you will be here."

She touched her throat gingerly, and was happy that for the moment, Harry was busy moving about on his end. If he came in and had seen that, all hell would have broken loose, literally. She nodded finally, and quietly Nicholas drew his wand. He motioned for her to do the same. "Today is a two part lesson. First off, I want you to disarm me-"

"_Expelliarmus!"_ She barked, and Nicholas' wand went flying. She smiled smugly, happy that she'd outsmarted him. He looked to where his wand had flown, then nodded as he turned back to her, a smile on his face. "Good. Now: Survive."

The words had barely left his throat when he shifted. He struck her elbow, then caught her wrist and twisted her hand to make her loosen her grip on her wand. With a shifting of his weight, one hand pressed to her abdomen as he kicked out the back of her knee, he sent her sprawling to the ground.

She coughed and sputtered, nursing her beaten and bruised back, the cuts flaring again. "Good. You lasted three seconds."

Slowly, Ginny forced herself to a sitting position, and then glared up at him. "Again, I'll do better this time."

He only smiled down at her then, "There will be no need. The first lesson I will teach you is the most important. Control. Discipline. Master the mind and the body will follow. If you can control your emotions, you can control your body. Control both of these, and mastery of your magic becomes a simple thing. And for this, magic will not be necessary."

She stared at him for several minutes, as comprehension dawned on her. "Martial arts, that stuff you were doing yesterday. You're going to teach me that?" She said with a slight scoff.

He smiled, and twirled her wand between his fingers, "Already I have shown you what can come of this discipline. I have fought you directly and won. I have bested you in close combat, and disarmed you without casting a single spell."

All of which she could not deny. In truth, the more she thought about it, the more the prospect of it appealed to her. "Alright." She whispered, and as he held his hand out to her, she reached up and let him pull her to her feet.

Over the next month, they met daily. Again and again he drilled into her the martial arts, hours upon hours of training. It was tiring, exhausting work, for first she had to get her body into the proper shape. She'd always considered herself to be shapely, to be fit. Yet by the second week, she could already feel the fat disappearing. By week four, the muscles were already forming along her body. Every day, he would work her to the bone, where she would then collapse to sleep before her head touched pillow. She spent the remaining hours relaxing with Harry, letting him wash away her aches and pains.

They spent hours at a time in each others arms, simply talking about everything that was going on. Finally, as December began its approach became evident of one thing: Harry, Hermione, and Ron were missing something, something important.

"If only we had some way to destroy that damn horcrux!" Harry snarled, yet Ginny did not flinch away. She was simply too tired, and knew he would never strike her. He'd explained that they had taken turns wearing the horcrux, seeing as it would seem to poison the mind of whoever was wearing it with dark thoughts. Ginny could only reach over and hold Harry sympathetically, and let him get his feelings of frustration out.

"Well, I'll see what I can dig up on my end. Has Hermione got any ideas?" Ginny asked quietly, nuzzling Harry's neck.

"Mmm. The damn horcrux seems to be impossible to destroy by normal means. It has to be with something that is just as resilient, and nearly impossible to beat."

Ginny nodded, and promised she would see what she could find on the matter through the library at the school.

So, this only added more to her already harried workload, school, studying, practicing, and searching for Harry all piling on top of each other.

Two days later, Ginny found herself landing solidly on her ass, Nicholas sending her flying for the god-only-knows how many-th time. "No, no, no!" He snarled. "Dammit Ginger, are you even paying any attention anymore? You're only getting slower in your counters and blocks!"

She flinched slightly, and whispered a quiet sorry, but he only sighed and shook his head. "Bah. Let's take a break." He sat down next to her, and they shared the quiet solace of the setting sun as it dipped below the Dark Forest.

After nearly thirty minutes of silence, Ginny finally broke it. "Nick? Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Whether I'll answer is another matter." She smiled at that, knowing his asshole banter was only a front to the kind man beneath. She found herself intrigued by his past, so much of it a mystery, but most of all, by him.

"Why do you wear a ring?"

She said, referring to the small, pale white ring that he bore upon his left hand. In the right light, it would seemingly glimmer a deep blue, and reflected what Ginny could only call ancient runes that she had never seen before. He smiled at that, and brandished said ring before him. "This? This is Daemon. My GodHand."

"GodHand?" Ginny repeated, confused.

He chuckled, and shook his head, "I suppose you could call them RingWands, But that doesn't sound nearly as mighty. So: GodHand."

"So then it channels Magic? How come I've never seen you use spells with it then?" She asked, intrigued.

"Because, as Daemon says,' They don't feel good.' He refuses to do them. But I have done magic by it, remember?" He said, and made a slashing with his hand.

"The Ice Shell… So what is that magic anyways? I've never heard of it before, nor the RingWa- err… GodHands."

"Yeah, you probably wouldn't have," Nicholas said, scratching at his chin. He'd let the stubble grow again, and now sported a full goatee, which often agitated him. "The magic's the easiest to explain, so I'll start there. Simply put, magic is what you make of it. It starts with belief, and from belief it grows and changes becoming whatever you desire."

Tilting her head slightly at that, she drew her brows together in a look of confusion that only drew laughter from Nicholas, "Alright, alright… Simplest terms, it means that if you believe you need a bunch of fancy hand gestures to make magic, then you need a bunch of fancy hand gestures to make magic. You believe you need a bowl of blood and crazy dance, you'll need a bowl of blood and a crazy dance if you want to get anything done."

"So then theoretically, if you believed you needed a wand..."

Nicholas nodded in approval, "You would need a wand, yes that is the basic jist of it."

Ginny thought it over for a few moments, then asked, "Okay, so then why the GodHand? I mean, if you don't really believe you need it, why do you still use it?"

Nicholas smiled at that, "Simply put, Daemon acts as my channel. He makes it easier for me to perform magic; the rest of it is up to me."

"Wait, you mean your ring's alive?" Ginny said in a slightly startled, slightly awed manner that only drew more laughter from Nicholas.

"Well, I wouldn't say... alive, per-say, but definitely aware. Daemon's been with me for nearly four years now, I made him in my third year."

Ginny only stared in shocked amazement, "_You made that?!"_

Again, he nodded, "Aye. My mother had the book. Written in an old runic dialect, most people could translate. Hell, it took me three years, plus nearly six years of staring at the book before I came to Hogwarts for me to even _begin_ to translate it."

"S-So... you mean, I-I could make a ring like that?" Ginny whispered quietly, in an almost nervous voice. The idea of _making_ something like that was quiet intriguing. No need for a wand anymore, she would always have hers on hand. Literally.

"That's the general plan, yes. Eventually though, you're not ready yet. Each ring, according to the book, is attuned to the maker's heart, or in this case, the wearer's. Unless you can control yourself, the ring you make will be one of utter chaos, if you can even manage to make one. And each ring is made of different elements, ingredients." Nicholas smiled then, as if immersing himself in some age old memory.

"In layman's terms, you have to make a journey yourself to recover the ingredients. Pieces and things that will have significance to you, that seem to pulse in time with your very heart. I'm sure you know what I mean." And she did. He spoke of the time in which she had felt the world around her, felt the world pulse in time with her heart and mind.

"So then, what's yours- er... What's Daemon made from?"

Again, another smile. "Troll Bone. One of the toughest fights I've ever been in, really. Damn thing's resistant to almost all forms of magic, meaning you have to get up-close and personal for the kill." Nicholas sighed then, and stood. "Well, we best get started again, before night gets too far along."

Ginny nodded, and stood as well. But something was nagging at her, "You say that Daemon doesn't like to cast... regular magic I guess you'd call it, and only likes the 'belief' magic?"

Nicholas nodded, "Yeah. He hates 'normal' magic. Says it tastes foul."

"So have you tried it the other way around? I mean, have you tried 'belief' magic with a wand before?"

Nicholas chuckled at that, "Yeah, I have actually. Stopped trying after the third wand exploded, and nearly killed me."

***

They spent nearly another four hours that night training, practicing. Ginny came renewed with vigor, her pace quickening and her ability to retain what Nicholas taught firing on all cylinders. Finally, Nicholas called a halt to the evenings training, "despite your beginning, and how short a time we've spent training, you are improving at a rather rapid rate. Keep it up Ginny."

He pulled his bags together, stuffing his school clothing into his bags as he usually did, and then waited at the edge of the field for Ginny to do the same. It had become customary between the two that he walk her at least to the castle so that he might go over the next days lesson, and prepare her for it. He'd also use this time to explain to her where her weakness' lie, and how she could improve on them.

The thing was, At this point Ginny had only one thing in her mind: the RingWands, the GodHands. She listened absently as Nicholas explained more and more about the subtle nuances of her fighting form, and what could be done to make it better, when she finally broke through his lecture and asked, "What do you think I would need for my GodHand?"

Nicholas huffed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted, but silently thought it over for a minute or two, "Hmmm... Well, probably... Maybe a Basilisk tooth? Those are freakishly rare, über powerful, and hell, the poison each tooth carries has only one remedy."

Ginny stopped short then, as if something had clicked into place. Something _she'd_ been missing. She thought it over again and again, and realized with a gasp exactly what Harry needed, and where she could find it, all thought of GodHands banished from her mind. "Oh my god! I know it! I know how to help Harry! I can!"

With barely a wave and a thank you, Ginny bolted upstairs towards the Seventh floor. She knew that likely, the D.A was still practicing, just as she had been. She had to tell them her idea, her plan. Surely they would help.

Finally, they had found a way to destroy the horcruxes that Harry was so desperately hunting. And to think, it'd been right under her nose this whole time.

**To Be Continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ginny, nor any of J.K Rowling's Characters. Everything else... is mine.

**Warning: **this fic is rated for violence, bloodshed, strong language, and several Adult themes.

**A/N:** Okay, so. Sorry bout the delay in posting this chapter. RL has been intruding, and I haven't had the time to write as much as I'd like. I apologize for this. I'll do whatever I can to keep the posts regular, but if I suddenly don't post for a few days, it's cuz Random RL attacked. So sorry.

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 7**

**The Plan**

Two hours later, Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood slowly crept down the hallway leading to the headmasters Office. True, more then enough of the D.A had willingly volunteered to partake in any effort to fight back against the Snape and his cronies; they were currently all busy making one disturbance after the other throughout the school. The plan was to make enough of an effort to spread them thin, get them all moving from one place to another so that no one person would be focused on the headmasters office. And so far, it had worked. Howling Dixies, Peeves, Garrot Gas, Bog Hall, and any annoyance that could be rounded up was. Each and every last one of them had been set to the task of causing as much havoc as humanly possible, and more.

While all this was happening, the three leads (Ginny, Neville, and Luna) were to take up station not far from the headmaster's office and await Snape's descent into the storm of school pranks, so as to round up and stop the interlopers. And it was true: the Carrows and their croons were no match for the forces of the D.A, who outmaneuvered and out thought them to every last prank.

After what felt like hours, finally, Snape entered the fray. Ginny watched quietly as he stepped from the shadow of the turning gargoyle, and then strode down the hallway towards them. She motioned for Neville and Luna to get back against the wall, and though she heard nothing, she knew that to be an equally good sign. Silently, Snape passed them, a pale wraith moving on the night's breeze. For a moment, he stopped not twenty feet from Ginny, and she held her breath, knowing that at any moment the sound of her heart ramming into her ribs would give her away.

Yet, he finally shook he head and passed along, seemingly unaware. Ginny remained rooted to the ground though for a good five minutes, sure that the moment she moved, Snape would come back around the corner and catch them. Was that him? She thought she'd seen a flutter of black cloak against the ground. But no, in the end there was nothing. Finally she stepped into the hallway properly, and started for the gargoyle, each step bringing more excitement, more joy and speed to her step. They had done it! They had outwitted Snape himself!

Inwardly, she felt herself smirking. Nicholas had been wrong. She could still see his silver eyes, shining with disapproval as he met the D.A leaders on their way to the corridor.

"Ginny, think this through. This isn't going to work. He'll catch you, and when he does, you can bet the Carrows will be the least of your worries."

Ginny had sneered at him, "What, are you afraid of them, Nicholas? Afraid to put your neck on the line for someone else?"

For what felt like the millionth time in the past month that she had known him, he shook his head, "No, I'm not. But I also know that this isn't the way. You won't accomplish anything by this Ginger. And dragging them with you isn't going to help, either."

Neville, having grown exponentially over the past few months, both in stature and courage, seemed to almost growl over Ginny's shoulder, "Oi! We're doing this of our own free will! We want to fight!"

Nicholas could only smile wryly at him though, "No, you don't. You don't know what you're getting into. And Ginger, killing yourself isn't going to serve any purpose."

"I'm not ki-"

"Yes, you are. You aren't ready for this. Not yet. I know you think I'm holding you back cuz I think you're too young, but by thinking that you prove that you are."

She huffed irritably at that, but squared her shoulders and stood her ground against him. "Harry needs me, Nick. What do you want me to do, sit here and twiddle my thumbs?"

"He does, does he? Have you told _him_ your plan?"

Ginny stiffened, and fought the blush that had started to creep onto her cheeks, knowing she looked like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She hadn't, in fact, because she knew inwardly that he'd tell her not too. To let him handle it, that he'd find a way. Curse him, and his noble ideas. She'd prove to them all that she could handle this, and that she was ready. Ready for the Death Eaters, ready for Voldemort, ready for anything. She cast a quick glance about at those around her; Neville looked confused, Luna looked serine, and Nicholas looked amused. He'd hit right on the money, and knew it too.

Again, she huffed, "It doesn't matter. We've already started. I can't back out now."

She started past him, and then turned round long enough to cast a sidelong glance at him, one that was filled with meaning, _Come with us. We could use your help._

Again, he smiled then shook his head, "Not tonight Ginger. I've more important things to handle."

She rolled her eyes and started away when she felt his grasp, steel-tight against her arm. She felt him lean in, and whisper against her ear, "Whatever happens tonight, be careful. Don't die. He needs you more then you could ever possibly know."

He released her then, and quietly passed them on his way up the stairs, not another word spoken.

Ginny pulled herself from her memories then, quickly shaking her head to dispel them, and then quickly began to read through a mental list of keywords that would open the gargoyle. Ginny had nearly lost all hope when she stumbled across a random word, an image of their last headmaster entering her mind the moment before she spoke his first name aloud, and with a lurch, the gargoyle stepped from her path.

With a slight flutter of trepidation in her heart, Ginny stepped onto the winding stairs, Neville and Luna at her heels. Once at the top, Ginny pressed on through the door, which gave without even a squeal of protest. She found herself once again, surrounded by the headmasters of old, the tinkling silver instruments. Walls upon walls of books, items, artifacts that Ginny couldn't even begin to comprehend. She glanced around, idly noting the soft glimmer of what Harry had once told her to be a pensive. Where was the sword?

She'd been sure she'd seen it here in the office. Yet as she glanced about, she found no such instrument. Dismay and fear took her heart, _Oh god, what if I was wrong? Or worse, what if Snape moved it? What if he'd set the entire thing up, just to catch us?_

She hadn't taken that into account when she'd set this up, and realized the foolishness in that underestimate. If they didn't get Godric's sword for Harry, it was possible the entire war would end in failure. And it would be her fault too, if Neville or Luna were hurt. As if sensing her thoughts, Neville placed a quiet, encouraging hand to her shoulder, "Come on; lets look around. He might have it hidden somewhere."

Ginny nodded weakly, and the trio set about exploring the office. Through desk and cabinet they searched, and it wasn't until Ginny began pulling random books from the shelves that they found it. With a great rumble, the bookshelf shuddered, and then shifted to one side, revealing a large glass case. And within the case, resided all their hopes and dreams, the sword of Godric Gryffindor, gleaming against a velvet blue pillow.

Anxiously, Ginny fumbled for the clasp of the case, disbelief that she'd actually done it; stealing the breath from her lungs, until she clasped the sword in her hands. Jubilant and light headed, she presented the sword to Neville and Luna, their faces reflecting her own joy at their victory, their accomplishment. But they could celebrate later; their first task would be to get out of here safely. Neville and Luna both turned and raced for the door, Ginny smiling furiously in excitement as she followed.

"Ah, Ms. Weasley. I thought you might come here, looking for that sword." Ginny froze in her steps as the voice drifted to her. Slowly, she turned back to the empty room, and after a moment of confusion, she realized where she'd recognized the voice before, pain washing over her. "Headmaster."

"Indeed." Professor Dumbledore's portrait replied happily, and seemingly gave her a slight bow from his perch above the headmaster's desk.

So many emotions came to her then, standing before the man that had meant so much to Harry, to this school. She couldn't find the words to express any of them. Joy, pain, hate and anger all coursed through her like a jet of water, rapid and uncontrollable. Finally, she broke the silence, "Why?"

His smile turned sad, and he dipped his head all the more so, "Because it was necessary."

She could feel the tears forming then, her voice breaking, "But we needed you. Harry needed you. We still do."

Again, he smiled, almost as if he knew something she didn't, "I will tell you something I once told Harry. Help, will always be available to those who need it, those who seek it. There comes a time, Ginny, when every person must decide: will they lead, or will they follow? Will they take responsibility for their own decisions, even the wrong ones? Will they do what is right?" His smile turned serene then, and he nodded to her, "If my death would protect you, or any of my students, I would gladly accept it. Remember that Ginny. Because in each of you, I see something special, something worth fighting for. Or dying."

"_Who goes there_?!" roared a voice from the staircase below, startling Ginny for a moment before she felt her own stomach fall out. _Oh gods, we've been made. We're finished._ She shook her head then. _No, not yet. Neville, Luna. I've got to get them out._ She thought to herself, Dumbledore's words echoing in her head. _And then what?_ She thought. But already, she knew the answer. She knew what she had to do. Quietly, she steeled herself, looking up one last time at Dumbledore, into those sky-blue eyes, filled with approval.

"Goodbye, professor."

He bowed to her, "Be careful Ginny."

With that, she turned and rushed the stairs away from the headmaster's office. She took the steps, two at a time, and reached the hallway in time to find Neville standing to one side of Amycus Carrow, trapped in a full body-bind curse. She cast a quick smile to him, and nodded, "Nice work." But the words were barely from her lips when the sounds of approaching footsteps reached the trio.

"Dammit! They just don't give up, do they Gin?" Neville growled, moving to one side of the hallway to intercept the incoming teachers, Luna flanking his other side.

Time though, was up for the trio. Ginny knew now, she couldn't sacrifice them on her pillar. They weren't ready for this, not a one of them. She drew her wand then, and with a bare flick, she cast the first spell that would seal her fate. " _Petrificus Totalus!"_

It struck Neville off guard, and without even a yelp he collapsed to the floor paralyzed. Luna gave a startled gasp, and started to turn when Ginny hit her with enough of a stunning curse to knock anyone senseless for hours. She slumped to one side, and Ginny quickly checked to make sure she was uninjured before dragging her out of sight. The footsteps grew louder, yet it only pushed Ginny to move faster as she moved Neville as well.

The look he gave her when she did meet his gaze was one of confusion and hurt, betrayal.

"Neville, I'm sorry. But I can't. I won't risk your lives for mine. I understand that now. I can't let you take that risk. The curse will fade in a about twenty minutes, and by then, this should be over. I want you to take Luna, and get out of here." She glanced off into the distance, off to where Carrow laid paralyzed. "I'll deal with his memory. You get back to the D.A, keep them together. Keep them strong. They'll need your leadership, when the time comes."

The footfalls became as the drums of war, and Ginny knew her time was up. She hugged Neville fiercely, tears welling in her eyes, "You've grown so strong Neville. I'm proud of you. Goodbye."

She released him and hurried back into the hall, where she spent the few scant moments she had altering Amycus's memory so that it had been her that fired the spell instead of Neville. Then, she stood and faced the approaching hall, Sword in one hand, wand in the other. She thought momentarily on perhaps trying for some of the "belief" magic, but knew inwardly that it would be a vain attempt.

Alecto was the first to emerge from the shadows of the hallway, just as Ginny let go of all her fears, her hopes and anxieties. She fell into the battle frenzy of that one fateful night, and descended on the unsuspecting Alecto with the ferocity of a mountain lion.

"_Stupify!"_ She roared, and the spell hit Alecto so hard that even Ginny felt it when the flimsy shield charm cast by the Death-Eater imploded, casting the woman back. Ginny whipped forward as Snape stepped from the shadows, his wand already at the ready, and cast his own stunning spell. Ginny caught it upon her own shield charm, deflecting it with some effort before swooping in close with the sword. She whipped it out, steel flashing in the pale light of the moon and felt the odd sensation that traveled up her arm as the sword bit into Snape's chest. He'd taken a step back though when she had slashed, and the wound barely grazed him, but it was enough to bring caution to his eyes.

She tried for a second slash when movement caught her eye to one side, causing her to change direction and aim for this new threat. Steel bit into flesh again as Ginny's sword found purchase in Alecto's cheek, rending through flesh with ease. The woman screamed out in pain as her blood splattered the floor, but Ginny paid it no heed; she finished the entire whip-motion, her wand leveled point blank with Alecto's screaming face.

The second stunning spell sent the woman crashing into a nearby column, where she thusly slumped to one side, unconscious.

"_Stupify!"_ bellowed Snape behind her, and Ginny had no time to raise a second shield charm. The blast caught her squarely in the back, and after sending her flying, she rolled for several feet once she reconnected with the ground. She felt dazed for several long moments, but pulled herself together in time to have Snape level his own wand with her face, "A noble attempt, Weasley. You thought to steal the sword for Potter." Their eyes met for but a moment before Snape barked, "S_tupify"_ and oblivion embraced her welcomingly.

**To be Continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Ginny, or any of J.K Rowling's Characters. Gods, how I wish I did sometimes though, no?

**Warning!:** This Fic is rated for Violence, strong language, and several adult themes. In other words Kiddy's, THIS AINT A NICE FLOWER FEST! NOW GET OFF MAH GORRAM LAWN! (Kidding. Kidding with kiddies. My god, my puns are getting worse…)

**A/N:** Welcome back! I'm glad you could join me for this installment! Truly, it's getting harder and harder to write. If you notice from reading or looking at any of my other Fics, you'll see that around this time, most of my fic's die. It's mainly because while I do have idea's and plans, I sadly, keep making the mistake of coming up with only checkpoints in the story. The space in between them is often my downfall, and this is a point in between markers. So, I have a favor to ask. Please, any words of encouragement you can spare, I would appreciate. Getting them (be they reviews or PM's, or whatever) often fires me up, makes me want to write more. I hate disappointing people when I know that there are those out there that _are_ interested in my tale. So please, if you don't mind. Anything to help keep me going. THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT GUYS!! ~Glances at the A/N~…. Wow, that's a long one. –gets shot- OW~!

*Assassin*: Ahem. Without further adue:

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 8**

**The price of failure**

"_What should I do with this one?" Snape's voice drifted through the darkness, accompanied by a dull thump as though something heavy had landed on a bundle of fluff._

"_Hmmm… Ms. Weasley put up quite the fight, didn't she?" She could hear Dumbledore in the distance, though her brain couldn't quite understand how. Was she dead?_

"_Hmph. Yes, Alecto took quite the injury. Such a pity." She could hear Snape sneer, his voice laced with biting sarcasm, before he let out a tired sigh, "I suppose I'll have to heal her?" He seemed to hesitate then, but continued, "What should I do with Weasley?"_

_Dumbledore made a quite noise, as if thinking deeply, then replied, "Send her to Hagrid, detention for the night."_

"_And the_other_two?" Snape asked quietly._

"_They know nothing, Severus. Let them assume they escaped, it would be easiest."_

_She couldn't quite understand what was being said, only that at some point, she had become the topic of discussion. It was then that she felt a pressure against her back and beneath her legs, followed by the sensation of rising._

"_Be sure to alter out memory of the attack from both Carrow's minds." There was a hint of consideration, before Dumbledore continued, "Leave Ginny's. I have a feeling… it's important."_

_***_

Ginny came to to the scent of dried meat, thatch, and brewing tea; Hagrid's hut then. Slowly, she blinked her bleary eyes open, trying to focus on any one point, and failing miserably. After a moment, she let out a whimper of frustration, and slumped back against the cot she laid on.

"'Ou're awake then. Easy Gin. You's took quite the thumpin, lemme tell you." Ginny heard Hagrid's all too familiar voice rumble out of the darkness, not bothering to open her eyes. She wanted to nod, but even that felt equal to a troll slugging her, causing her to only whimper and curl in on herself. It hurt to do so, but once done, she found the pain far more manageable.

She listened silently as Hagrid moved about the hut, his footsteps heavy and slightly rushed, the boards under him creaking with each step and movement. Her lips felt dry and cracked, her throat sore. She laid their like that, until the pain finally subsided into a dull aching, a steady pulse of uncomfortable-ness across her entire body. Slowly, she rolled onto her back again, and tried her eyes, being able to bring things into focus finally. It took her another minute, and Hagrid's help to sit up, where he deposited a small mug of hot, freshly brewed tea in her hands. She nodded gratefully, taking a sip first, then, once she was satisfied it wasn't too hot, began to gulp it down.

A satisfied little sigh escaped her lips as she finished her tea, warmth spreading through her surprisingly cold limbs. It took a minute or two, but she finally found feeling aside from numbing pain in her body, and started to take stock of where and what hurt. Most were minor cuts and scrapes, nothing serious, though her head felt like she'd been in a Quidditch match.

As the Quaffel.

Setting the cup aside, she turned then to Hagrid, who sat in a chair near her, watching her cautiously. "Hagrid? What's going on? I could have sworn I was…" _dead._ She'd been about to say, but couldn't find the strength to say it exactly.

Hagrid though, understood, shaking his head slowly. "No yous ain't dead, tho' Snape was lookin' to do it. Mighty close you came there Gin, mighty close."

Ginny only frowned at that, and tried to sort through her memories. Everything felt hazy at first, but it slowly began to fall back into its proper places. The sword, Neville, and Luna. Dumbledore, Snape and the battle. And…something after. It felt as though it'd been a dream, or perhaps… a vision. She couldn't be sure. "What am I doing here…?" She finally whispered.

He sighed, and bowed his head for a moment, before returning his gaze to her and smiling sadly, "Detention. Snape's sending you in ta the forest. Alone. You're-" before he could finish, there was a pounding on the door, causing Hagrid to snarl in disgust, "Blasted man, can 'ever wait, can he?"

Hagrid stood and reached the door, pushing it open so that he could greet his visitor. Or he meant to. The door instead, had other plans, simply falling off its hinge's and taking the frame with it. Snape though, had been fast enough to side-step out of the way, and glared at the fallen door, and then back at Hagrid, who had a look of shocked embarrassment on his face.

"Sorry, it 'asn't been the same since tha fire…" And it was true; though he'd rebuilt his hut quickly enough, many pieces still hadn't settled back into their proper frames or positions.

"No matter…" Snape said as he cast one last scornful look at the door before returning his gaze to the inside of the hut, "Ms. Weasley. Join me outside, will you?"

"And if I refuse?" she snapped back. She knew her fate was likely sealed already, and saw no real reason to co-operate with this man, anymore then was absolutely necessary. He watched her for a moment, and then produced a wand from under his robes, coldly leveling it on her, "Then I will change my mind and leave the punishment for your assault up to the Carrow's." He sneered, and the two glared into each others eyes for several long moments before Hagrid stepped between them so that Snape's wand was instead pointed into his stomach. "Now listen 'ere Professor; Don' chu' go wavin' tha' blasted thin' round in mah house. Gin ain' don'-"

"It's alright Hagrid." She whispered after rising from the bed and stepping to his side, placing a comforting hand to the giant's elbow. "I'll be alright, promise." She turned and glared at the raven-haired man before her, and quietly stepped from the hut over Hagrid's door. She followed him to the edge of the forest, where he turned and handed Ginny her wand. "Professor Slughorn is going to be performing a special lesson tomorrow, and needs a vial of Acromantula venom, for you see, he's run short and the next order won't come in for several days. You are to retrieve this vial from the local population of acromantula, by any means necessary."

Ginny simply stared at him, her mouth hung open. She knew he would give her some kind of impossible task, but not this! She'd heard the stories of the hoard of spiders within the trees from Ron, and knew just how dangerous this task really was. Still, there was no alternative; he would be prepared for her if she tried to attack him again; though she doubted he would expect her to disarm him by physical means. She enjoyed that fantasy for several seconds, enjoying the imagery of beating him into the ground with her bare hands, as the muggles would do it. Wouldn't that be a site to see..?

She had to stop herself from laughing at that, and instead decided to nod, barely controlling the giggle that bubbled on her lips as she answered, "Yes sir." He sneered at her and she turned quickly from him, not wanting to fuel her giggles anymore with the site of his face. Slowly, she began into the forest, feeling his eyes on her back all the way. Finally, fear began to set in, if only slightly. She knew what she was _really_ here to do, and the thought scared her. She'd always been here, always been either at Hogwarts or back at the Burrow. But even more then that, she had always had Harry.

Now, in doing what she knew she had to do, she was stepping away from all that, save perhaps Harry. Her thoughts then turned to him, and all fear washed from her body, replaced by guilt. She had lost him the sword, his only hope of defeating Voldemort. She had endangered not only her life, but those of the D.A in her attempt to prove her worth, both to Harry, and herself.

In truth, it still stung that he had left her behind. No, that was a lie. It was like a knife in her gut, twisting, burning. She had been bitter over his departure, bitter in their separation. Just who did he think he was, to simply cast her aside as he had? But in her heart she knew the truth. Knew he loved her. Knew he was scared for her, spent nearly every waking moment thinking and wanting her. These two conflicting thought had eventually brought on her need to prove she could handle it, him and his dangers. And it had been Dumbledore that once again, saved her.

Looking back, she realized she'd done the same as Harry, if even worse. She'd stunned and petrified two of her best friends, out of fear for their safety. She groaned inwardly, rolling her eyes. _Guess we really are Soulmates…_ She mused, and she felt Harry's sudden thrill of joy across the connection. She took a moment to peer into his thoughts, and found him lying within the tent, contemplating the swirling patterns on the roof. "_You've been eves dropping, Potter…"_She whispered coyly, and though it took her a moment to separate her mind's reality, and her own, making sure she was still going solidly along a clear cut path in the woods, her mental self settled into the nook of Harry's arms, resting her head against his chest.

Here, she felt safe, warm, loved. Nothing could detract from that feeling, ever. She felt him smile, bend ever so slightly and place a kiss against the top of her head before whispering against her hair, _"Waiting for you, love. Is everything okay? I saw flashes of anger, pain, but I couldn't get across. What happened?"_

She could feel then, the steady current of fear that laid under the surface of his calm, and knew that the fact he'd been unable to come across their link had bothered him. Yet, in her training she'd found she could cut herself off, if she truly wanted to. And she had wanted him to have no part in the events of this night. Not that it mattered now…

"_I found a way for you to destroy the horcrux, Harry…"_ Again, a thrill of joy and jubilation took him, and it was only her firm hand against his chest that kept him from jumping up and hollering his elation. His joy fled at the look on her face, replaced with overwhelming dread.

"_What happened?"_ He reiterated calmly, though she knew he felt anything but. She cringed slightly, but told him everything, from the realization of how the Basilisk blood had once coated Godric's sword, a blade that was likely of itself, unstoppable, to the assault on the Headmaster's quarters, to Snape's capture of her and her current detention.

He snarled in frustration when she finished, and she flinched slightly. At the movement though, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, _"Not you love. I could never be mad at you. I just wish the sword was easier to get to… Snape will likely move it now, so finding it's going to be nearly impossible."_

She nodded sadly, and buried her face against his chest. _"Hey, come on now Gin. None of this is your fault. You had no control over it, or any of this."_ She shook her head then, pulling back.

"_But it is Harry, it is. Because of me, Voldemort could win. Luna, Neville, both of them are in danger._Everyone_is in danger because of my mistake."_Harry tried to stop her then, but she stepped from his grasp. She needed to do this, had to.

"_No Harry. I screwed up. And now, I've got to fix it. I'll find a way. A way for you to destroy the horcruxes, I promise."_ He sighed quietly, smiling as his gaze traveled over her.

"_Always so stubborn. Fine, do as you will love. Just… be careful."_ He stood, and gently cupped her cheek in his hand, causing her to lean into the caress ever so lightly. _"I don't know what I would do without you."_

She smiled and nodded, letting herself enjoy the moment until Ron's snoring interrupted. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, and shook her head. _"That boy. Sometimes, you just wanna strangle him, don't'cha?"_

Harry couldn't suppress the small chuckle that escaped his lips then, and Ginny only smiled in return. She motioned for him to get back into bed as a thought popped into her head. Though she doubted it'd work, it would obviously be funny. Quietly, she moved to her brother's cot, and leaned down. She contemplated his sleeping features for several seconds, and found she wished she had whipped cream, or better, shaving cream. Oh well, no sense but to jump, no? With that thought in mind, she drew in a deep breath ( Though she really didn't need it she knew, being a spirit you had no need to breathe, but it was a conscious action.) then screamed in a voice as loud, and scarily enough, similar to her mothers as possible, " RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, YOU WAKE UP THIS INSTANT!"

Ronald let out a yelp of alarm, and flipped out of his cot so fast he nearly bowled over the tent itself. The action was so fast and alarming; Ginny scared herself, snapping back to her own body back in the Dark Forest. She collapsed where she stood, falling to her knees to catch her breath as her heartbeat out of control. She honestly hadn't expected that to happen. Once her rampaging heart slowed, she peeked across the link again, and found Harry roaring with laughter. She preferred not to manifest herself this time, which was fine by Harry, who went about mentally recollecting what was happening.

It would _seem_ that not only Ron, but Hermione had heard her as well. Both had shot from their cots, both in opposite directions, and both flaming red with confusion and startled fear. Hermione had actually come up with her wand in hand, it would seem, and had nearly hexed Harry into oblivion when he'd started roaring with laughter. Though neither made mention of what they'd been dreaming (or doing), both Ginny and Harry, laughing incessantly, could easily venture a guess.

Ginny quietly wished Harry a goodnight and left him to deal with the two lovebirds as she herself focused back into her body. She glanced around, and found that she'd made quite a bit of headway into the forest, and realized with a quiet gasp that she'd lost track of which way the school was. "Lovely…" She whispered to herself, then sighed and brushed herself off as she stood. She took a moment to gaze at the stars above her, trying to figure where she was by the placement of the stars, but had never been one for astronomy.

Yet, the moment's reprieve gave her a chance to notice the subtler sensations around her, and took note of what sounded like running water in the distance. Strange, she'd never noticed a river before… Intrigued, she started off towards the sound, contemplating what had just happened as she went. How had Ron, no even more troubling, how had _Hermione_ heard her? Ginny, Harry, And Nicholas had come to the conclusion that it had had something to do with their souls. Ginny and Harry were linked as eternal Soulmates, and had started to see each other when they truly needed each other, and only after their bond of love had grown. As to Nicholas, they had made several theories, all dealing with the fact that Nicholas had delved into her mind. When he had, he must have somehow created a link between them, thus allowing Harry to be visible to him, and vice versa should Ginny be "Out of Body".

She supposed she could understand how Ron had heard her, (they were family, after all, and therefore linked on a kind of spiritual level, if not only by blood) Yet Hermione had heard her. Was it perhaps that Hermione, like Ginny was to Harry, was Ron's Soulmate? If so, then perhaps that would explain it. Hermione had experienced Ginny's being there through Ron, then.

She felt Harry nudge against her mind idly, peering at her thoughts in interest, and nod in approval. So it made sense to him as well. He then threw across the link the same thing she had been wondering, _"What about Nicholas?"_

Again, her theory proved one thing, yet opened another question, all steering back to the man with silver eyes. Again, she felt her understanding more of him was the key to many things, but as of yet, knew nothing. She sighed in frustration, a feeling that echoed across the link to Harry, who replied with his sympathy. He would come himself, but both of the troublesome lovebirds were harassing him about the practical joke, and he had to pay rapt attention to them, lest Hermione hex him into a ferret for a few hours in retaliation. She nodded in understanding, smiled in quiet sympathy for her love's torment over her actions (though they had both enjoyed it greatly) then retreated back to herself to stew.

It was then that the sound of running water came to her, a perpetual thunderstorm of rushing water against stone. _A waterfall,_ she thought with sudden excitement and glee, and bounded across the last tree and shrub line to the shore of what turned out to be a beautiful moonlit pool, accented by a high waterfall. Moss and tree's lined the cliff that jutted out above her, glistening with the dew of water like so many shimmering emeralds that it stole Ginny's breath away. She was stunned by the beauty before her, unprepared for the sight of the stars and moon above her on this cloudless night, glimmering like diamonds against a velvet blanket, reflected in the outer edges of the pool.

It was then that she caught sight of him, sitting in quiet contemplation at the edge of the water. She warred between anger, sorrow, and gratitude as she caught sight of him, but banished all those thoughts. Quietly, she stepped along side him, and took a seat on the sands beside him. They sat like that, simply enjoying each other's company, and the beauty of the scene before them for several long minutes. Finally Ginny broke the silence, "I'm leaving, Nick."

He only continued to stare ahead, yet whispered, "I know."

"I don't know if, or when I'll come back."

Again, "I know."

She huffed and turned to him then, studying his dark features, made all the more menacing by his swirling silver eyes. He smiled, and turned to meet her gaze, "Honestly Ginger, did you think I would let you go alone?"

She flinched back in startled shock, having not expect the words, and started to sputter together a sentence when he raised a hand for silence. She didn't like it, not one bit, when he ordered her around, but she'd learned both in the past few months, and experienced first hand earlier this night, that to contest him was to ask for trouble.

Again, he smiled slightly, before continuing, "Ginger, you've still got a lot of training to do. You've also got a lot of ground to cover, and though you might think you do, you know nothing of the world around us. You need a partner, someone who'll watch your back. You need a mentor, someone to help you grow, both magically and physically." His smile returned again as he faced the pool, "Face it Ginger, you still need me."

She glared hard enough that if looks could kill, Nicholas would be filled with daggers to the point that even his _atoms_ would be skewered. Still, though she hated to admit it, he had a point. "Gahhh!" She growled in annoyance, rolling her eyes at him before acquiescing to him, "Fine, fine, whatever. Yes, I need you here you little bastard. I was thinking of upping my training anyways."

"Good." He whispered in gleeful torment, loving the fact that he could lord this over her. She ended up shaking her head at him and smiling, shoving him lightly towards the pool.

"Alright asshole, enough gloating. We've still got problem's we need to solve. We've got no food, no clothes nor shelter of any kind. We've got no exact direction, and we're likely gonna be fugitives from the entire ministry."

"Plus you can't do magic." Nicholas added, causing Ginny to huff at him as she threw her hands in the air.

"Yes, _plus_ I can't do magic. I'm still underage, so the Ministry will track me down the moment I do. So, what's the plan?" She hadn't actually been expecting him to answer, having thrown all her worries and problems at him as a form of ammunition, but he swatted her down with the ease of a flyswatter striking a glued bug.

He pulled out from god-only-knows-where two duffel bags, filled to the brim. "I told you, I had more important things to do tonight."

She snatched the bag he moved towards her away, and checked its contents. It was _full_ of everything she would need, food, clothing, shampoo… certain other unmentionables… all of it her things. She stared back up at Nicholas in wonder, whispering quietly, "How?"

His smile returned, "I ran into another young Gryffindor. Anna, I believe her name was." Ginny groaned at the mention of her roommate, and swore she'd kill the girl if she ever ran into her again. Still, Nicholas pressed on, "I simply made mention that you would be needing an overnight bag, and to be sure to pack as many clothes as possible. She seemed more then happy to do so, spouting something about 'Knickers in a twist, finally getting some action, and several other less then savory things." The gleam in his eyes (aside from the silver) was one of absolute wickedness, accenting the smug smirk at the corner of his lip.

"As for direction, I know a few places we can hide out in, at least for awhile. Their inaccessible by apparition, which naturally makes them the perfect place to hide, and plan our next step. As to you're final two, a simple answer will suffice: don't."

She stared at him for several long moments, baffled. "Excuse me?"

"You have ears Ginger, though I sometimes wonder about what's behind them. We don't use magic. Or at least, you don't. People have long traveled without the aid of magic, and therefore, so can we. We train you in the use of the _Godhands_, and work towards making you your own."

She stopped him then, "Wait, isn't that magic though? Won't the ministry be able to track me down if I'm practicing that?"

Nicholas shook his head, "No. I have a theory that the magic produced by the _Godhands_ is of a different kind, perhaps even stronger then most known magic. The wards and tracing that the Ministry has in place currently cannot detect _Godhand_ Magic."

"How can you be sure?" Ginny asked which brought another smile to Nicholas's lips. "I've tried it. Don't forget, I've had _Daemon_ for four years now. I had to practice somehow, sometime. I did it while I spent time at home. The ministry never came, nor did their owls."

Ginny felt her heart racing at this revelation. Magic, stronger then even that of the ministry. Strong enough that they could not detect it, which was a near impossible thing under the worldwide detection grid, one of the most powerful enchantments ever cast. But what could do that? What kind of magic was so great that even the Arch Mages of old never knew about it? Or perhaps, they did know about it, but could never control it. Just how deep did this rabbit hole go? Sadly, Ginny had no answers, only more questions. She shook her head, and focused on what lay ahead of her, "Alright, we'll do that then. But Nick, we also have another task. I've got to find a way to rectify what happened tonight. I _need_ to fix this Nick. To set it right. I have to find a way to destroy the horcruxes, without the sword. Will you help me?"

Nicholas sighed as he stood, and dusted himself off. He cast a last, longing glance over the waters of the pool, as if wishing dearly that he could take the time to test them, to revel in them, before nodding. He turned his gaze piercing silver gaze back on Ginny, and stretched out his hand to her, "Let us be off then."

To be continued…

**To Be continued…**

**C/N: yeah, I took note of all the comments about it being centered. Though I rather like it for the dramatic flare, I can understand. So, in an effort to make this more pleasant for you, the reader, I've switched back to standard Lefty-text.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ginny, nor any of Rowlkins characters. Everything else, is subject to the testing facility of subject 000, code named: Mist

**Warning:** This fic is rated for Violence, strong language, and several adult themes.

**A/N: **I would like to personally take a moment to thank those of you who are happily supporting me in my writing. Thank you guys. This story is for you.

**Chapter 9**

**The Rabbit Hole**

Three days had passed since that fateful night. Ginny and Nicholas traveled west, and had finally escaped the confines of the Dark Forest around noon the day before. Now, Nicholas steered them northward, towards the mountainous region. They had camped for the evening on the shore of the only stream that fed down from the mountains.

"You know, it would be easier if you just used a Accio spell, Nick." Ginny quipped quietly, but the silver eyed man only smiled next to her. They sat on the shore, fishing lines cast into the stream.

"True, but where's the fun in that? Besides, sometimes it's better to rely on your own strength than on magic." He replied, and teased his line ever so slightly. Ginny sighed, went about her normal routine when dealing with this impossible man, (eye-rolling and head shaking included) and tried to find the same enjoyment Nicholas did in this menial task.

After Nicholas pulled in his third fish, Ginny gave it up as a 'male' thing, and left him to enjoy his solitude, instead, opting to kindle the campfire to life. She always found she enjoyed this process, striking the kindling to life, watching the sparks sputter and catch, and then slowly coaxing the flame into life. Once done, she leaned back onto the ground, relaxing slightly as she watched the flames dance.

In them, she often found such beauty, such grace. True, flame could be destructive beyond measure. But used correctly, fire brought life back to lands that were dead. And beyond that, within the flame itself was beauty. The subtle yellows and oranges, the swirling reds... it was like a ever changing painting, or a waltz of dancers that only the flames themselves could hear.

She smiled at that thought, picturing within the flames, those of simple form, swirling and diving, joining an endless waltz. She let her eyes drift close, images of golden beauty flashing through her mind.

She saw a woman of crimson hair, dressed in a silk dress finer then any tailor had ever made, its surface shimmering and dancing between all the hues of flame with each movement. Low of cut in back, it flowed about her with a simple yet commanding beauty. It was accented by matching gloves that coated her forearms past her elbows, the ensemble completed by a simple golden band about her throat. Ginny watched this beauty glide down a hall of glimmering gold, lit at regular intervals by a white-flame torches.

She noted idly that upon the walls were symbols, symbols Ginny had only seen once before: on Nicholas's ring.

"You're late Ginger." A deep voice growled from ahead of her, and though she gasped, the regal woman before her only smiled and stopped where she was. Ginny took stock of the man that passed through the doors before her, from his unruly raven hair and crystalline knight's armor, to his singular swirling silver eye (for the other was covered by a patch). He was rugged looking, boarding into his thirties, and though his armor shined meticulously, there was something... feral about him, animalistic. He had the air of a hunter.

"Come now, Ser Nicholas. Is that any way to address your-"The woman started, before he scoffed her words aside as he approached.

" Ginger, didn't I tell you ages ago that no matter what happens, you will _always_ be known as 'Ginger' to me?"

Her smile warmed even more, and she hugged him dearly as he bent to embrace her, " I suppose you're right, you stubborn fool." She pulled back then, glaring playfully up at him, "Still up to your old antics I take it?"

He smiled in return, and bowed his head slightly, "Of course, mi Lady."

"Ah, Nicholas! I thought I might find you here!" Another deep voice rumbled from down the hall, and Ginny's heart skipped several beats as she turned her gaze upon the latest arrival. Dressed in deep gold's and browns, He strode down the hall towards them, a matching cloak of gold and brown drifting along behind him. He looked to be nearing his thirties, his jaw strong and full, covered in a full day's growth of beard. Yet two things struck Ginny: first, he wore a matching golden band about his throat, and second: His eyes.

Those emerald gems, Ginny would know them anywhere no matter how much time had passed. True, when she looked at these, she saw wisdom, pain, steady strength, and the same feral aura that radiated from Nicholas, but no matter the changes behind them, they were still _his_ eyes. Harry. "Oh." He murmured happily as he caught sight of the Crimson haired beauty.

"Good evening, my love." She heard the woman purr, and Ginny turned her gaze back to her counterpart. If she had glowed when she saw Nicholas, the appearance of Harry had turned her into a literal sun, and as she stepped into Harry's arms, he drew her into a loving kiss that left no doubts about their relationship.

"Ahem." Nicholas growled, yet the beauty only waved him off. Nicholas smirked, shook his head and rolled his eye, " I'll rejoin you at the feast then." then turned and strode from the hall.

After several minutes of the kiss had passed, they separated, if reluctantly. "I was hoping I might catch you before the feast, Love…" She heard the woman purr happily as she laid her head against Harry's chest, and his aura of warmth and love only increased with her nearness. "Oh?" He whispered before his eyes opened ever so slightly, " The last time you said something like that to me, we stole away to the servants lounge and were six hours late. To your own birthday."

"Yes, but it was a good present, no?" The woman replied happily, and Harry let out a short bark of laughter.

"Oh aye, it was heavenly. Hm… Well, it's not a servants lounge, but I think I can find us a closet, if my Lady desires…" He murmured playfully, and the woman only smiled, her face flushing as she punched his shoulder lightly.

"Shameless brat." She whispered.

"Only for you, my love." He replied. They stayed like that for several minutes more, simply holding each other, when the woman broke the silence, " This is it, isn't it Love?"

He smiled quietly, and then whispered, " Aye Love, it is. Come, we can't be late for our own coronation." The woman nodded slowly, then pulled herself from Harry's arms. Slowly, she turned towards Ginny, and when their golden brown eyes met, all time halted. There was pain in her eyes, ages old pain. She had the look of a warrior, a woman who had fought again and again. Had watched friends, family, die. In her eyes, Ginny saw a woman who had spilled blood, and never looked back. But beyond that, there was a simple happiness. A woman who had made peace with herself. She had come to terms with who and what she had become, and refused to let it hold her back from living her own life.

The woman stepped forward, stepping free of Harry's embrace. Slowly, the mirrored beauties came within an arms reach of each other, one but a mere seventeen; the other in her late twenties. They stretched their arms out; mirror's of each other, placing them over each other's heart.

"So it wasn't just a dream…" The older one whispered in awe, then smiled. " I know you have a lot of questions Ginevra. Know that the answers will come to you, in time. When in doubt, trust Harry. Trust Nicholas. He's an ass, but he means well. But above all, Ginevra, my dear, trust yourself. You have more power then you could ever imagine." Ginny's head whirled, shock and incomprehension swirling through her. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but for once her tongue failed her. The older version of herself glanced off into the distance then, cursing under her breath. She turned back to Ginny, and hugged her tightly to herself. " Ginny, there are so many things coming, so many trials and pains. So many things I wish _WE_ could have been spared from. But I can't. I can't prepare you for what's to come. You'll find the strength though, I know you will: I did. Be careful."

"Ginny!" Another voice called from a far away land, breaking the tranquility of what was happening. The older her smiled, then nodded, " Go. Be strong. Oh, and when the chance comes, bucket him. It's always hilarious." Slowly, the world around her crumbled, leaving Ginny standing with her arm stretched out as she was swallowed by darkness.

XxX

"Ginny, calm down!" Nicholas screamed from inside Ginny's own head. Wait, that wasn't right… he couldn't get in her head. Least, not like that…slowly, her eyes drifted open, and the sight that greeted her nearly made her scream herself. The campfire had exploded into a roaring tower of flame, and at the center; Nicholas. He writhed and fought against the flames, his hand outstretched. Not to her, but into the heart of the flames. At her fear though, the fire built and grew, exploding into a roaring inferno.

Nicholas ignored it though, focusing entirely on his intent. He barked over his shoulder though, "Dammit Ginger, I said 'calm down', not throw a fucking wrench in my face!" Ginny's heart raced out of control but she tried to do as he asked, tried to calm herself. She tried to focus on her breathing, tried so hard to calm it, to even it out. Yet, no matter what she did, it refused it abate, her heart wrapped in fear and sending her body into convulsions of its own. She was trembling then, barely able to hold conscious thought together. There was just so much fear, so much pain. Where was it coming from? She couldn't seem to comprehend, to understand what was wrong, no matter what she tried. And then, from the depths of her mind, came a voice much like her own. "Trust in yourself, Ginevra. Trust in your heart. You have more strength, more power then you could ever imagine."

The words steadied her, at least mentally. She was still afraid, very much so. But now, it was a fear born of respect for the power before her. And in this, she found it presented to her. The power, the warmth and strength. It licked out, greedily touching upon her, upon her emotions, her hopes, her fears. Her life, full of love, loss, joy, pain and anger. All of it, fuel for the flames. It was then that she understood. As if some unseen hand guided her, some instinctual nature, she knew innately what to do.

She opened her arms, and welcomed the fire into her.

"Ginger! _No, Ginny, not like that!_" But it was already too late; the flames coalesced and surged forward, slamming into her with the force of ten thousand anvils dropped from orbit. It lifted her off her feet with its force, but she didn't care. She welcomed the flames, partook of the strength there. There was a wreathing of the flames as they wrapped about her, flowered about her hands, her eyes and mouth. It blossomed into brilliant bulbs of red and orange, streaking through her hair with absolute abandon.

She accepted, welcomed the flames into her heart, and they in turn, welcomed her.

Slowly, she felt herself lowered back to the ground, the flames setting her down with the gentleness of a mother coddling a child. Her feet, bare now for the flames had eaten everything, touched against the cool earth, and just like that it was over. The flames abated, absorbed into the earth or back into the modest campfire it had once been.

Slowly, Ginny took a steadying breath, her eyes closed briefly. _Once you are united with that which bridges Terra and soul, call upon us whenever you need us, Ginevra of the Fey. We will answer._ The words echoed in her mind, and Ginny felt herself smile slightly. She opened her eyes, and met Nicholas's gleaming silver eyes. For once in all the time she had known him, they were filled with something, something other then the scorn or sarcasms she had come to associate with him. His eyes were filled with respect, awe even. He bowed his head ever so slightly to her, an action all too reminiscent of another dark haired warrior she had seen, then stretched out his hand to her, presenting her with a towel.

She laughed, taking the towel and wrapping it around her herself as a blush crept over her features. She hadn't intended _that_ to happen. He stepped back then, and she quickly darted into her tent to change. While there, she tried to organize her thoughts, to understand everything that had just happened. One had been a… vision of some kind. The future, perhaps? She wasn't sure though of that. In fact, she wasn't sure of anything. And the fire. _That_ had been something else, something she had never experienced, never even heard of happening to another mage. Questions, questions, always with the questions.

Once dressed, she stepped back outside the tent to find Nicholas unchanged, standing solemnly by the fire. Quietly, she approached him, the movement drawing his attention to her. He smiled at her, seemingly taking no note of the state of his clothing. His shirt had been burned to bare scraps, as had most of his slacks, leaving only enough to cover his decency. He turned to her then, and stretched out his hand.

In it, was a blood red gem, flames writhing and dancing on the inside. It was shaped into the form of an octagon, and filled the hand that he deposited it into. It was warm to the touch, almost scalding, but the longer Ginny held it, the more she became accustomed to the feel. She looked between it and Nicholas, stunned beyond words, her reaction only making him smile. " It's yours, Ginger. You earned it. It's the first step towards making your _GodHand_."

"Wha-, how? What is it?" She asked finally, too stunned to say anything else.

He chuckled, and motioned for her to accompany him as he sat by the fire. She did, and he took a seat next to her as he began to explain, "The gem you hold in your hand is known only to a select few. It's known as a 'Molten Heart'. Literally, it's crystallized flame, solidified by the sheer, unbridled strength and intensity at the core of a fire. There are quite a few guesses that the core of the sun is _made_ of this stuff."

"B-but _how_? How did you get this? How can I even hold it?"

"Simple. You just found your affinity."

When her stare continued to be blank, he chuckled, and then continued, " _GodHand's_ are rare things, so muchly so that _no_ mage I have ever met or talked to even knows what they are." He reached into his duffel bag then, and pulled from it an old, leather bound book. It looked weathered, but well taken care of, as if it had spent years exposed to the elements before being found and taken precious care of. "This book, is where I learned everything I know. It belonged to my mother before me, and she claims to have gotten it from another mage. He had been close to death when they met, and he gave her the book, making her swear to always keep it safe."

"She did, and held onto it until I came to have it, when I was six years old. I was intrigued by the book, by the symbols within it. I spent years on years studying them until finally I unlocked the secret to deciphering them. They're akin to the runes we use today, if a slight variation on the symbols. Anyways, you don't care about all that, what you're wondering about is the affinity stuff. Ever notice how I use a lot of ice and or water when I perform _GodHand_ magic? That's not to say I'm limited to just ice or water, but it's what I'm most comfortable with.

"The _GodHands_ act almost as a bridge between you and the world around you Ginger, remember that. They help you to tap into not only your own, innate magical power, but also that of the very planet itself. From what I've read, most find a liking to a specific element, be it fire, earth, water, or wind. It's the element that is closest to their soul, most akin to their personality.

"There are three key components to each _GodHand_, first is the soul: represented by the elemental crystal formed from a joining with the elements themselves. You've accomplished this task, much sooner then I'd expected. It seems that even the planet is eager for your awakening. The second part is slightly harder to get. Then again, when you consider your circumstances, perhaps not."

She looked at him then, perplexed, " My circumstances?"

He nodded his head then, " Mm. You can already enter the dream world at will, or as some might call it, Astral projection. The second part of the _GodHand_ is another crystal. It is an expression of your will, your heart's deepest desire, solidified into physical form."

She took a moment to absorb that, considering it. At first, she thought it might be an easy task, until she comprehended the sheer enormity of the task. She would have to take not only something insubstantial, but something that was nothing more then mere _thought_ and make it real, make it crystal. Sure, there were many, _many_ things one could do with magic. But to form something like that? The task was monumental, something only a Grandmaster mage could do. And Nicholas expected _her_ to do that? She shook her head, then set the task aside: she would face it when the time came. "What's the last part?"

Nicholas drew in a deep breath then, and exhaled slowly, " The third part can be both the hardest, and easiest of the three. There is a beast, deep within the wilds far from here. You will have to find this beast, and conquer it." She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Surely, there was more to it then that. " Is that it?" She asked finally.

He smiled quietly, and nodded his head, "Aye, that's about it. Once you've done this, you'll have three separate pieces. I'll smelt them down; mold them into the form of the _GodHand_. It's quite the interesting process."

She looked at him then, watched his eyes, and noticed something she had never seen before. In that moment, she realized his guard was down; his heart had finally reached his eyes. The pain that she saw there, was unlike any she had ever seen before. He was a warrior, beyond a doubt. She glanced at his chest, at the exposed flesh there, and _saw_ the hundreds of scars that pocketed his flesh. He had seen, had done things that she could scarcely imagine. And the pain that he carried was matched by only one other man: Harry.

Just what had happened to Nicholas? What secrets did he hold in his past? She knew now, more then ever, that his was a sorrowful tale. How she wished she could help him, find him some way, _something_ that would ease his heart. She knew the remedy, or at least, the one that she had created. She had given her heart, mind and body to Harry. She had saved his life, as surely as he had saved hers. And now, she saw before her a man much in the same throes. Yet all she could give him was her friendship. Perhaps, that would be enough, for now at least, until he found someone for himself. A question came into her mind then, odd though it seemed. It seemed odd to her, that only Nicholas seemed to know anything of value about the _GodHands_, and that made her curious.

"Nicholas? How many people have had a _GodHand_?"

"Recently? None. They fell out of existence centuries ago. Dunno the exact reason, though I do know this: most people cant make them, nor use them."

"What? Why not?" She asked, startled.

"Didn't I just say that I don't know _why_? Honestly. But every person that I've tried to teach failed miserably."

A suddenly fear took to her heart, " How miserably?"

"Honestly? Some of them died." His words fell on the camp, seemingly draining the air of its warmth. Ginny shivered, and drew closer to the fire. She suddenly didn't want to think anymore on what lay ahead. The present was terrifying enough.

XxX

Two days later, Ginny and Nicholas found themselves camped in the lower mountain passes. They had trekked continuously after the incursion with the flames; for fear that those who might be hunting them would use the fire as a beacon to where they were. Nicholas had done a superb job in both hiding the camp, and destroying the evidence of their passing.

Nicholas had been continuing her training every night after they made camp, and tonight had been no exception. Thankfully, tonight's session was passed, leaving Ginny to nurse her sore muscles and battered pride as she lay on her cot. As she did though, a sense of insane rage and betrayal came across the link between her and Harry. Driven by fear, she closed her eyes and focused on Harry, forcing herself from her body.

She found Harry, alone in his tent. He stared at the ceiling, blatant rage coating his features. She'd never seen him look like this, except when Nicholas had fought Ginny. "Harry?" She whispered quietly, approaching the cot ever so slowly. When he didn't answer, she became even more agitated. Something was definitely wrong.

"Harry? What is it, Love?" She whispered as she sat herself on the floor next to the cot, her hand placed soothingly against his. Much to Ginny's relief, he took her hand in his, and Ginny knew then that it was not something she had inadvertently done that had him angry. She waited quietly, until he finally rolled over and faced her, his features softening when his eyes met hers, " Your brother's a right foul git, you know that? I mean, what the hell? Bastard just up and leaves."

"_He what_?!" Ginny practically roared, but Harry only nodded.

"Aye. Said I didn't give a shit about you, or the rest of your family. Said I had no direction, no plan. That he'd come along thinking I'd know exactly what to do. But I don't Gin, I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing! I haven't found even _one_ more Horcrux, and just when we all realize how to destroy the one we've got, we realize we can't get to it. And no, dammit, Gin, it's not your fault, nor your responsibility. Even if it had stayed in Hogwarts, it would have been near impossible to get to. Least, not without a major fight on our hands." He had moved then, cupping her cheek in his hand as he often did. She in turn, leaned into it welcoming the comfort.

"I just… I wish he would grow up. You've already been through enough, Harry. I'm so tired of seeing you hurt." She moved then, placing her hand over his heart, " And I know you do. I know this hurts you, so much." He bowed his head silently, letting his hair hang down over his eyes as he nodded. Ginny took advantage of this, and moved closer, tilting his head back ever so slightly as she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was short, and though it might not have been as wild as some of their _other_ kisses, this one was filled with meaning, filled with love and compassion. It was a statement to Harry that she would be here for him, no matter what, that she would stand by her love. She poured everything she had into that kiss, all her love and affection for him, and prayed that he would understand.

They both heard her coming at the same time, the sounds of Hermione stumbling through the brush outside. They broke apart, though both parties would have preferred not to have. "They don't know about this yet Gin… I couldn't tell him. I wasn't even sure that I could have proved it to him that you were okay…even though I knew you were." Harry whispered as Hermione got closer. " It probably wouldn't be a good thing for you to be here when she comes in…"

Ginny nodded, understanding. She dipped forward one last time, kissing him quickly, then whispered, " I love you. Harry. Remember that. I'll always be here for you," as she faded from view. She could still hear Hermione's cries of heartbroken agony as she retook her body back in the mountain pass, the sound enough to bring angry, blotchy tears to her eyes. How could he? How could Ronald _do_ something that… that… _pigheaded?!_

She threw back the cover of her sleeping bag then, no longer able to sleep. Rage and anger had polluted her mind, fury at her own brother driving her to her feet to storm out of her tent and into the camp. So when she saw Nicholas sitting quietly by the fire, she had the sudden urge to slug him on principle of him being of the male populace. Nicholas took one look at her face, and instantly his expression became one of guarded concern. " Should I get the knife, or the gun?"

She shook her head and after a moments reluctant thought took a seat at the fire. " Why do men have to be such assholes?"

"Ah" he said as if he understood completely, " The knife then. We'll make it nice and slow." Ginny cocked her eyebrow at that ever so slightly, a curious look upon her face. "Tempting, considering. I would say castrate him, but I think Hermione would take offense to that… Why does he have to be such a dimwitted git? Honestly? Why can't he _see_ that she loves him?!" she whispered as she wiped at the blotchy tears, to which Nicholas only shrugged slightly, shifting before actually producing a wicked looking army knife from somewhere on his person.

Ginny had to wonder then if he'd been serious about the gun, and suddenly found the thought to be none to far fetched; Nicholas himself was a conundrum of contradictions and forced masks. Ginny imagined the real man was something buried under layers of psychosis, nearly impossible to read, yet at the same time, an open book. Perhaps, like the book he himself loved so much, he simply needed the correct cipher.

He twirled the blade between his hands then, his attention on the blade as he moved it through graceful sweeps and slashes, his fingers deftly maneuvering the weapon. She found her attention diverted to this, captivated by the simple yet deadly dance his hands performed with that blade. So when he spoke next, still maneuvering the knife, he started Ginny slightly, but she quickly recovered from it, " Maybe he does. Maybe he loves her too. But he's confused, unsure. Doubts can be a mans worst enemy, Ginger, you know that." He flipped the blade between hands idly then, and continued the performance with the other hand, as if completely unaware of what he'd just done.

"So, he ran. Might not have been the bravest thing to do, but perhaps it was something he _needed,_ Ginger. I bet you good money, he'll be back. And if he's half as strong as you, then you've nothing to worry about." Ginny was actually taken aback by that though. Had that just been… had he actually just complemented her? The universe and all it's mysteries, he had! Finally, he took note of her interest in the knife, and a slow, wicked smile took his lips. He caught the knife by the blade, then stretched it out to Ginny. " Take it."

"What? B-but I don't even know how to use one! I'm a mage, I don't use knives or things like that!" Ginny protested, but still he persisted.

"Ginger, it never hurts to know multiple skills. There might even come a day when you're wandless and alone. What will you do then, cower in a corner 'cuz you 'can't fight back'?"

She considered it for several more minutes before finally taking the knife from his hands. He explained to her how to maneuver the weapon so as to make it spin, a basic thing, but Ginny already had cut her fingers several times when they finally stopped. " I think you'll eventually get the hang of it, just keep practicing." Nicholas said as he helped her back to her feet, then caught her hand. She looked up then, meeting his silver eyes, eyes that bore into her with their intensity. " I only caution this, Ginger. In regards your brother, be careful. Don't go chasing after him, it won't do you or him any good. Trust in him." He let go then, and was turning towards his tent when he said, "Love your family. Protect them, Ginny. They're the only one you have. And you don't know just how precious they are."

With that, he stalked off into his tent, leaving her in silence as she processed what he'd just said. Something told her, she'd just found one of many scars. But what it was, she didn't know. Quietly, she turned back to her own tent. And as she laid down, drifting off to share her dreams with Harry, a slow chill spread over her body. She had the sudden sensation of being… _watched_. That someone, or something, knew of her presence. And with it, a steady suspicion locked firmly into her mind: This rabbit hole went deeper, and darker then she would ever know. Only time would tell, just where she would end up at the end.

**To be Continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Ginny, nor any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Everything else is a result of hyper-reactive brain neurons firing faster then my feeble mind can control. I claim all responsibility for their actions. Wait, I what?! MIST, GET BACK OVER HERE!!

**Warning!:**This fic is rated for violence, bloodshed, and occasional gore. Oh, and yeah, adult themes. Cuz everyone knows, blood and chicks=hawt. (Kidding)

**A/N:**I wanted to take a moment to say thanks to Queen, Ghost and Octo. You guys are awesome. And to all my silent lurkers… REVIEW MORE! SO I CAN ADD YOU TO MY LIST!! LIIIISSSSTTTSSSSS!!!

**Anyways, without further adu-- *shot by sniper***

**OW!**

**Sniper: Without further adue:**

**~Ginger and ash~**

**Chapter 10**

**All Roads Lead To…**

Two weeks later, Ginny and Nicholas were boarding on the outskirts of a small village. This deep in the wilderness of the British Isles, the village could only be that of a wizarding community. Once free of the mountainous region, they began to make good time, crossing miles upon miles in only a few short days. They had started a steady pace north, and Nicholas predicted they would make it to the northern mountains; an area that he claimed was inaccessible by means of apparition, within the next few weeks. Nicholas, by simple nature of being who he was, had insisted that Ginny keep camp while he checked the village for any supplies they might need.

She found herself grumbling lightly, the _Molten Heart_ in her hands as she turned it over and over endlessly. She had taken to doing this often lately, finding the steady heat of the stone a small comfort. Her time with Harry as of late had been a hectic one, ever since Ron had left. While she knew it had nothing to do with her personally, She knew he'd been hurt deeply by Ron's departure. He was like a puppy that had just lost his littermate, sad and empty on the inside, yet trudging onward because he had to.

The only time this would seem to fade was when he would fall asleep in her arms, his head rested against her shoulder as they simply lain together. In these few precious moments, he would snuggle closer to her, as if he was trying to meld her to his body, make her a permanent part of him. But he didn't have to -for she was his: body, mind, and soul.

Still, it was hard to see him like this, so broken and alone. She would never voice this though, for she knew that if she did he would clam up, and getting him to open his heart again would be an almost impossible task. So, she endured, for the both of them, taking comfort – solace - wherever she could find it. It had come in many forms of late, and not just in the _Molten Heart_.

True to her word, she had stuck with the practice of the army knife, and though her hands were covered in bandages where she had cut herself while practicing, she could see a steady improvement in her hand coordination. She'd begun to find a rhythm to the knife, a swirling of it between her fingers that was becoming a hypnotic habit of hers, to the point that unconsciously she would move her fingers through the motions of spinning the knife- even when there was nothing in her hands.

Aside from this, she had also begun to truly devote herself to mastering the arts that Nicholas taught her, both martially and magically. Though his only words as to how to correctly manage a _GodHand_ were, "you'll know when you have one," he still taught her the simplest principals of its potential, and though they did not know the exact origin of the magic itself, what he did know, he shared. At one point, Ginny had likened the magic to perhaps a druid of old, for the magic was taken from the very elements themselves, the very life of the planet.

Often, what was taken was given back, and she had even begun to see that in Nicholas, there was a true bond with the planet itself. She found herself wondering if she would be the same, bound to the planet, always helping others. She knew it seemed an odd thing to consider, especially when it was considered that the Muggles were to never know of wizards, yet she couldn't help but want to help others. It was an instinctive nature of hers, one she wondered if she'd stolen from Harry.

So many times, she found herself reflecting him in her own actions, each one bringing a small smile to her lips. No matter where she went, what she did, she would always be his, and he hers. How she longed for the day when they would be reunited in the flesh, meeting for the first time in so long a time apart, though they spent almost all their time together.

All these things and more brought her small comforts, small distractions. She felt the gem in her hand warm in tune with her thoughts, drawing strength and warmth from her own emotions, though not draining her in the least. Instead, it was a comforting feeling, as if it sensed her own dreary state, and wanted to make her feel better. One side of her thought it ludicrous, no mere object had sentient thought; the other remembered Nicholas often mentioning _Daemon_ as if the _GodHand_ actually spoke to him. Was it possible? Were the _GodHands_ more then mere rings of power?

Curious, she decided it time to test this, to see what would actually happen. Mentally, she projected towards the gem in her hand a simple question of, _Are you there?_ The backlash that greeted her was enormous, dropping her to her feet as her muscles convulsed in agony. All thought vanished, save the pain that pounded into her. After what felt like several agonized minutes, she was finally able to move again- though very, very slowly. With several grunts of effort, she pushed herself back to a sitting position, and stared at the fallen stone, now looking completely innocent and benign (aside from the flames).

Just what the hell had that been? She'd never _felt_ anything so powerful before, and it had barely been a mere _thought_. While some would fear the gem after this though, it only intrigued Ginny more. Just what made it tick? What gave it such power? How—no, _why_ had it even done that? Then another thought struck her; when the mental backlash had struck her, there had been _something_ else in it, a thought perhaps.

As Ginny considered it more and more, she realized what was unsettling her so. There had seemingly been sound to the backlash, a sound that she hadn't noticed at first. It had been the sound of a scream, and not just any: that of an infant's scream of pain. When she realized this, it made her both curious, and even more protective of the gem itself. Was it possible that the gem was truly alive? If so, then that meant that the gem – no, the _Molten Heart_ was less then a few weeks old; A child, in all senses of the word.

She contemplated this, thinking over her earlier course of action, and realized just how bold and inconsiderate she'd been. Though it was true, her thoughts were just that—thoughts-- if that was the gem's only means of communication then her greeting must have seemed like an assault on the very being of the _Molten Heart_. No wonder it had backlashed as it had.

Cautiously, she moved to the _Molten Heart,_ slowly lifting it from the already baked ground around it. She took a moment then to clear her mind, to steady herself for what was to come. She knew this would open her mind to the _Molten Heart_, both helping and possibly hindering her. The chance of getting a response was rather slim still, though better now then it had been. But, that also meant that if things backlashed again, it would be much, _much_ more painful.

Still, there really was only one way to go now-- taking a steadying breath and clearing her mind of any and all distractions, Ginny focused on the _Molten Heart_, picturing it in her mind. She saw its blood-red gleam, the flames that danced within its core casting glorious hues in every direction. Slowly she drew close to the gem within her mind, mentally picturing herself approaching it. At first, she had thought to send forth another mental sentence, but then reconsidered. Emotion was often so much stronger then mere words, but this was often because it was a basic instinct of every living thing. She knew what to do then.

Quietly, she thought happy thoughts. Welcoming, loving, _gentle_ thoughts. They came forth from her in a slow trickle, touching lightly upon the stone. She hesitated, curious and wanting to see what would happen, when she _felt_ her own emotion returned to her only softer. There was curiosity in it as well as a nervous welcome.

Moments passed as she shaped her emotions, ranging from curiosity to regret for her earlier actions which was met with similar feelings. She conversed with it this way, and soon found that images—when controlled—could be used to also aid the _Molten Heart's_understanding of certain ideas.

Bit by bit, she felt a solid connection between herself and the _Molten Heart_ forming, teacher to student, perhaps even mother to child. To say that the _Molten Heart_ was alive was an understatement. True, it did not feel… complete, but it had senses enough. It learned, and grew with each passed emotion, each idea. Ginny found herself elated at this revelation, the sense of accomplishment a great one. _She_ was the one to raise this …this…

That thought gave her pause. True, it was an object, but it was hardly inanimate. So then… what was it? Did it have a gender? A heart? A soul? All these thoughts and more raced through her mind, but she quelled them quickly for fear of them passing too rapidly to the _Molten Heart_ and causing more pain for both parties. Finally, she settled on a simple question, yet one that felt appropriate. Cautiously, she created the appropriate images, inflecting them with the correct thoughts and then projected them to the gem. In essence, her question was this: _What do I call you? Do you have a name?_

What came next was not a clearly defined image or thought, but seeming random segments, fragmented by uncertainty. Pain came then, pain beyond anything she had felt before. It felt as though someone had simply cut her heart from her body, ripped it from her chest as surely as they had ripped the soul from her body. But this was worse then astral projection, which was painless beyond a slight tingle.

This, this was a numbing of every feeling, every thought. What was this? The _Molten Heart_ seemed to melt into her then, shrouding the mental image she had created with darkness. She found she could see nothing, _feel_ nothing beyond the numbness—or at first, it seemed so. There was sudden warmth within her own chest, where her heart should have been. It spread, coating her body in its radiance, until she felt herself able to move again, to think.

Images came then, slowly. They swept up from under her, a steady current of colors and blurred splashes, a painters frustration. Slowly though, they came together to form a single, solid image, snow drifting down around her, and two other figures. They looked to be in their early thirties, give or take a few years, and struck Ginny as odd. The more she gazed at them, the more they seemed familiar. It wasn't until the man gazed in her direction and gasped that she understood who it was. Under cover of Pollyjuice Potion, Hermione and Harry were creeping through the center of an old town, a large monument placed in the center.

Ginny chanced a glance at it, and recognized it almost immediately: it was a statue commemorating not only the fall of Voldemort himself, but the sacrifice of Harry's parents in the effort to stop him. Turning her gaze back to Harry, he had tried not to show that he had noticed her with Hermione so near, but beaconed Ginny over with a tilt of his head. She smiled slightly, and stepped to his side, wrapping her arm around his.

_How are you, love?_ He whispered mentally, and she snuggled against his arm.

_Okay, I…think. I don't know. It's all getting very…fuzzy. I…_She shook her head then, focusing. This wasn't about her anymore, she had known that the moment she caught sight of the Statue to Harry's parents. _Enough, Harry; Are you okay?_

He smiled weakly, and Ginny could see the pain, the confliction that had engulfed him. He wanted to be here, so badly; wanted to see the proof of his parent's existence, the grave that marked their final resting place. And yet, there was hesitation in him, trepidation. Would he be able to handle seeing them? Would he be able to hold it together for their sake? He didn't know, didn't know anything anymore.

And even Dumbledore had worked into the picture: a convoluted mystery of lies and intrigue. Harry wasn't sure _whom_ to trust anymore, for he had been hurt and scared by so many people, so many things. She wept for him, and pulled him closer to herself. She would be his wall, his safety. It was her turn to act as shield to his sword, a defense against the pains of the world.

Another gasp caught her attention, and Ginny turned slightly to Hermione. She had her face fixed directly in the opposite direction, refusing to look at Harry, and Ginny knew then that she'd been right. Hermione could see Ginny but refused to acknowledge this, (she likely thought she was going mad, seeing half corporeal images of a friend millions of miles away) instead opting to take note of the graveyard behind the church. She called to Harry, pointing the site out to him and leading the way in.

Silently, the trio passed over grave after grave, silent monoliths to a generation passed. Hermione pointed out different ones, noting a symbol etched into one, the similarities between sites, and even the resting place of Dumbledore's beloved sister. It was all starting to wear on Harry, to grate against his senses like a blade scratching lightly over exposed flesh, or the horrid clawing of nails on a chalkboard. This place was filled with the souls of those full of those passed, who had died in vein. Or they would, if he didn't succeed. How he wished they would all just leave him alone let him live his life.

"Harry, over here!" Hermione called finally. Ginny walked arm in arm with Harry as he approached the grave of his parents, and gave him a gentle squeeze when she felt his muscles tense. The pressures, pains were all building. She could feel it, feel him starting to lose himself.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." Ginny read aloud, catching Harry off balance. His eyes flew wide before turning on Ginny, as did Hermione's.

"What?" he whispered.

"It means: death will come when it comes. We can only delay it, make it change its mind. But eventually, it will come. Have no regrets when it does." She turned to Harry then, ignoring Hermione's saucer-plate eyes, "I love you Harry. No matter what happens, I will be here for you, always. I have no regrets when I'm with you." She turned her eyes then to the headstone, stepping lightly to it, "They wanted you to live, to have a good life. They put your life before their own. I should tell you to honor them, to put your life before everyone else. That no one else matters _but_ you."

She could almost feel Harry tensing behind her, and she smiled softly, "But that would be a disservice to you." She turned back to him then, her eyes alight with fire, "I know you, love. I know the man you are. They say that a man is defined by his deeds. You are a great man Harry, a hero. It's a part of who you are." She turned again, lightly stepping alongside the gravestone and placing one hand on it, "So stop doubting yourself. Stop doubting everyone around you. Because you won't be satisfied until you've saved everyone. Stop beating yourself over your head with that, using it as a weight to hold you back."

She stepped from the headstone then, moving to his side again before placing her hand against his chest, "Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's a burden you never should have had thrust on you. But if you had a choice, would you have it any other way? Honestly?"

He was silent then, contemplating her words before finally whispering, "No."

"And does that make you a bad person? Does that make you an attention hog? _No_. Why? Because you're not doing it out of petty glory seeking, you're doing it because it's the _right_ _thing_ to do-- because you don't want _anyone_ else to have to hurt. But Harry, remember this: _you are not alone._ I will be here for you, forever. Don't you doubt that for a minute."

"As will I." Hermione said firmly, stepping up to Harry and placing her hand on his arm. "I might not be… be Ginny, or anything like that, but I'm your friend, dammit. And I won't abandon you." She looked to Ginny then, and the two smiled, nodding to each other.

"So—"Ginny started.

"Stop letting the past drag you down, Harry." Hermione continued.

"Nor the future either, love."

"Live now, in the present."

"See what is to come, yes."

"See the past, also."

"Learn from it. Let it build you up."

"Prepare for tomorrow—"

"Live for today." Ginny finished. "We will always be here for you, Harry, always." She took a deep breath then, knowing her next words would be heavy ones, "As will Ron, when he comes back. He _will_come back Hermione. I know it. I know my brother." She turned to her friend then, smiling sadly, "He loves you, Hermione. More so then you could ever imagine. He just doesn't know how to show it right now. He's scared, confused. But he'll come around. I swear it."

Hermione stayed silent then for several long seconds, too stunned for words. Finally, when she opened her mouth again, her voice was filled with repressed tears, "Why should I care? He's a fool, and a right fool git an—"

Ginny moved so fast, Hermione never stood a chance of stopping her. One moment, Ginny was on the opposite side of Harry, holding his arm, the next she'd struck Hermione clean across the cheek with the palm of her hand. Hermione fell back into the snow then, stunned into silence yet again, her eyes once again Saucer-plates.

Ginny kneeled before her then, bowing her head, "Sorry. You were being stupid. I know you, Hermione. You're like a sister to me. And I know you love him to. Yes, when he comes back, make him understand the consequences of his actions. But never forget the love you share. He needs you Hermione… as much as you need him. As much as I need Harry."

Slowly, piece-by-piece, Hermione had fallen to pieces under Ginny's words, and the flame haired girl took her friend in her arms, holding her tightly as she bawled. Harry sat down opposite Ginny, taking Hermione's hand in his and letting her squeeze.

They had all gone through pains. They had all suffered. They would suffer more before the end. But there, in a graveyard that guarded the souls of the damned, they swore they would never let it stop them. They would never look back-- never give up. They had chosen this road, and they would see it through to its end.

XxX

To say that once Hermione calmed down she had questions, would be a understatement deserving a swift thumping to the cranium. Questions bubbled from her lips at both Harry and Ginny so fast neither could keep up. How had this happened? How was it possible that Ginny was here? Was she dead? Then how could she be a million miles away and still standing here?! The questions became a near endless stream until finally Harry clamped his hand down over her mouth.

"Hermione dear," Ginny said sweetly, "We don't know. It just started happening. No, it's not recorded in any books, I've checked. No, it isn't a spell. _We don't have any answers_. Understand?"

Hermione nodded, a muffled "yes" slipping through Harry's fingers. Ginny smiled and shook her head before motioning for Harry to let Hermione go. They talked for several minutes more before gathering themselves up and passing from the graveyard, but not before paying solemn respects to Harry's parents, Hermione going so far as to create a wreath of flowers to place on the headstone.

Once done, the trio had one last stop to make, and again Ginny was glad she could be here for Harry, to be his support. They traveled down the roads until finally coming to a stop before the birthplace of Harry James Potter. Even now-- so many years later-- it bared the scar of Voldemort's assault, one corner of the house simply blown into ash, ripped from the structure as easily as a giant might scoop up a boulder from the ground.

As they stood before the beginning of so many pains in Harry's life, the beginning of seemingly endless trials and a legacy that would live on for generations, Ginny clutched herself closer to the man she loved. What must be going through his head at this very moment? She knew she could easily peek, but found she liked giving him this privacy. She smiled quietly as she wrapped her arms around him, thankful to simply be next to him.

It was then that feeling began to return to her. Warmth slammed into her chest, into her heart faster and harder then ever before. Within moments it became scorching blaze within her chest, and even in her astral form she found she could not breathe. What was happening?

The world around her suddenly became bleach whitewash, no sound—color-- movement—even life, around her. Ginny collapsed to an unseen floor, gasping desperately for breath. Was she dead? Had she somehow spent too long in astral form and somehow killed herself? Was that even possible? She honestly didn't know. And as she lay dying on the floor, her eyes slowly glazing over, another, unfamiliar voice came to her, "And so it begins."

Suddenly, as though on a rubber band that had been stretched to far, the world snapped back into place. She laid against the concrete before Harry's birth home, Harry standing over her on one side, Hermione on the other. "Ginny, you okay?" He whispered.

It took a minute or two more as her breathing restarted, but she was able to give a weak nod. Harry smiled and looked over at Hermione. "See? Told you she'd be okay."

"I dunno, babe… She always has been a weak one." It took a full minute for Ginny to process what Hermione had just said. She glanced at her friend, confusion evident on her face.

"Mmm… too true. Gin, maybe you should go home. You're not really needed here." Harry said calmly as he stepped back. Hermione did the same, and by the time Ginny was on her knees Hermione was pressed intimately to Harry's side, a wicked smile on their faces. "Come on Gin, you don't belong here. Go home."

"Bullshit." Ginny whispered.

Hermione's lips split into a venomous smile, vicious and uncaring, "What did you say to me, Maggot? I'm giving you a chance to walk away, intact. You know a worthless worm like you could never satisfy a man of Harry's stature."

The blow had been well delivered, had struck at just the right angle, the words causing Ginny to falter as she stood. She had always known that fact, had always believed it. She was worthless, had never been good enough for Harry. He deserved better. Hermione's words had struck a nerve that had always been Ginny's greatest fear.

_I will always love you Ginny. You make me so happy. There's no one in the world for me, but you._ The words echoed from the depths of Ginny's minds, words that Harry had whispered the night Ginny had vowed her soul to his. The words rebounded then from the depths of her soul, fuel to a fire that began to burn in her heart. When she stood next, pushing herself to her feet, her eyes flashed with insane rage.

"Lies, all of it. You're not Hermione, and none of this is real. Harry would never betray me." Again, the fake Hermione smiled, her eyes gleaming wildly.

"Well then. It seems we'll have to do this the hard way." She stepped from Harry's side, pulling her wand as she went. Not to be out done, Ginny pulled her own wand. The two witches lunged at each other then when suddenly; the world around her flashed again, and Ginny found herself standing in the den of a beautiful house.

A sofa lined one sat before a wall-encompassing window, small corner tables placed on either end. The sofa was trimmed a deep gold and brown—as was the rest of the furniture around the room. The walls were coated in similar colors, matching the deep red and green rugs that coated the wood floor beneath Ginny's cool bare feet. A fireplace roared on the wall opposite the window, adding lively warmth to the already earthy feel of room.

And lining the walls and over the fireplace were pictures: pictures of Harry, of Ginny, throughout their youth. But it didn't end there: for every picture of Harry and Ginny there were two more of the couple surrounded by children. As Ginny's gaze traveled from picture to picture, she noted the gradual growth, the years as they passed for the couple, and innately Ginny knew—the children in the pictures, they were hers. She could almost feel the tears welling at her eyes as she gazed over the forms of her children, the love, warmth, and compassion that radiated from them all.

"Mama!" A small, terrified voice called from outside the den, and Ginny turned her gaze to greet the new comer. The little girl smiled warmly when she caught sight of Ginny, and Ginny knew her to be barely more then four years old. She had a deep, mahogany hue to her hair, marking her as one of Harry's offspring, and wore it in little pigtails at the base of her neck. She flew from the entry of the den to Ginny's waiting arms, which lifted her into the air where the little girl squealed in delight.

"Hey little one." Ginny felt herself say lovingly as she lowered the girl back into her arms, "What are you doing out of bed?"

The little girl buried her face against Ginny's shoulder, duly reminded of the reason for her flight from her bedroom, "I heard a weird sound from outside, and thought I saw a man standing out there. I came looking for you, mama."

"Hmm… well, how bout this? You head on to bed little one, and I'll go take a look, okay?" Ginny said gently, and the little girl beamed up at her. She nodded quickly, and then plopped happily to the ground before Ginny. She followed her little girl back out into the hallway, making it to the border between the den and foyer just as the little girl mounted the first step of the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

And then with a shockwave induced _ka-thump_ the front door exploded inward. Shrapnel formed of metal and wood tore into the foyer, impaling everything within and knocking Ginny off her feet. She flew backwards into the den, pain lacing her back when she landed, and ringing taking to her ears.

She looked around blearily for but a moment, then pulled herself together and pulled herself to her hands and knees. Standing in the hallway, his eyes gleaming blood red and serpentine, was a horror that Ginny knew would kill her. But she didn't care about herself; it was her children, her _family_ that mattered. She pushed herself to her feet, worry for her little one coating her voice with venomous rage as she snarled at Voldemort. And then the words chimed in her head, _"Love your family. Protect them, Ginny. They're the only one you have. And you don't know just how precious they are."_

Again, the world flashed and again she found herself in the white space, face to face with Voldemort or as he was known then, Tom Riddle. "Ginny, my dear. How is Harry?"

"You." She snarled, "You stay away! Stay away from me! My life! You will _never_ have power over me again!"

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Ginevra, my dear girl, don't you get it? _No one_ will ever love you the way I do. Will be able to protect you the way I can." He stepped towards her then, his smile growing wider, "No one will ever be able to understand you the way I do, my dear girl."

Rage boiled inside her, building into a roaring torrent of flames. She screamed, and felt the world around her splinter. The white ground beneath her convulsed and erupted into a solid pillar of flame, destroying any vestiges of clothing but replacing them with burning armor. She lunged forward and from within herself pulled every once of will, every bit of her rage, all her hopes and dreams, and solidified them into a gleaming white blade, crystalline in nature.

Voldemort tried to dodge but again the ground convulsed, the earth rippling and swallowing his feet, trapping him. And when Ginny drove the blade up under his ribs, he gasped in shock and pain. His inhuman eyes were suddenly filled with fear as they met Ginny's blazing golden ones.

"_You,_" She seethed, and twisted the blade ever so slowly, "Will never have power over me again. You mean nothing to me. I cannot _wait_ for the day Harry kills you. And oh yes, he will kill you. You will fade from existence, from memory, and _never_ torment another soul. How did it go? Oh yes. Harry 'is my past, present, and future'. And you will _never_ be a part of that." And then she ripped the blade up, tearing through bone and muscle as easily as butter. She felt the blood splatter against her as she ripped through his heart but didn't care.

He collapsed to the ground screaming in agony as blood poured from him and with a sick, twisted rage, Ginny smiled, "Now fuckoff." She whispered, and then drove the bloody weapon into his skull. As he splintered, his body fracturing into a thousand pieces, so did the world around her, until finally as one they shattered.

Ginny-- still clutching the blade-- found herself engulfed in darkness, an endless void surrounding her. She knew a transfer when she saw it, knew now that she was traveling back to her own body. But what had all that been? What had just happened to her?

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the sensation of being watched struck her again. And on its heels came a singular ringing clap of hands. Steady and slow, exaggerated to the maximum, they were the only sound in the endless void.

"Well done, Feybourne, well done." Came a rich voice from behind her. She turned to find a man nearly twice her size standing before her. He had the air of nobility about him, enhanced by the pearly white suite he wore, the slicked back golden hair, and crystalline blue eyes. Yet, something about the man was off—perhaps it was the gloves that covered his hands, or the slight way he leaned towards her, as if she were some delicious meal that he wanted to savor—but Ginny got the distinct impression that he would kill her if he had to… or if he felt like it.

"Who are you?" She asked cautiously, the blade in her hand shifting ever so slightly. If he tried anything, she wouldn't go down like a helpless animal. She would die fighting and hopefully, take him with her.

He tilted his head slightly, as if respectfully bowing to her—or was he mocking her? – Then said, "I go by many names. It is of little concern, little Feybourne. What matters, is _why_ I am here."

"Why do you keep calling me Feybourne? I have a name dammit. And what does that even mean?" Ginny asked, frustrated by the man's terminology.

He smiled slightly, and murmured, "It is… an old word. A term of respect, some might say, among my people."

Ginny absorbed that for a moment then nodded, "Alright, lets hear it. Why are you here?"

His smile turned animalistic, and Ginny had the sudden impression she'd just stepped into a very deep murk. "I came, because I saw a chance for you to help me, and I to help you. I know of what you seek: A way to stop the man of serpents, a way to help your beloved, and even a way to save yourself. I hold the answer to all these, for a single, simple task."

Ginny's heart skipped a beat at this, for it seemed too good to be true. Could everything really be laid out before her that easily? The temptation proved too much, and though she knew she was likely damning herself, she asked, "What's the task?"

Again, his eyes shined with mirth, his smile growing wider, "I seek three objects. They are borne of my people, lost generations ago. I would see them returned to us once more." As he spoke, he began to pace, holding up one of his long, slender fingers to represent each item he listed next, "First, a wand. This wand was crafted against our wishes, and has caused nothing but war and strife amongst its wielders. To your people, it is known as the _Elder Wand_. Second, is a cloak that allows the bearer to turn completely invisible. Made by one of our finest craftsmen, your petty Magicks cannot begin to touch it. And finally, a stone cast from our world by one of our greatest ancestors. It is said that the stone was imbued with the power to bring back the dead."

Ginny considered this heavily, wondering where the catch was, "And if I return these items to you, you'll what? Just disappear? And it could take forever for me to find them."

"True," He nodded in understanding, "Though I know you are farther along in this quest then you admit. As to what I will do… You have my word, I will return to my realm once I have these items in hand." He smiled humorously then, "And as to the answers you seek: You are right. I shall extend my good faith, and grant you what you seek now. Is this acceptable?"

Though puzzled by his words, Ginny could see no loopholes that he might exploit, and his voice rang with the sound of truth. Relenting, she nodded, "Alright."

Again his inhuman smile stretched farther, and when he opened his mouth next, Ginny could clearly see the serrated edges of his teeth that lined it. "The answers you seek, both to the final piece of your_Clochá,_ and to you beloved's salvation lies in the mountains to the north."

Ginny stared at him for several seconds, waiting for him to elaborate. "That's it? That's all you'll tell me? Nicholas already has us venturing there."

"Mm… then this "Nicholas" is a smart one. Be careful with ones like that; never know when they'll stab you in the back." Coming from this man, Ginny found the statement completely ludicrous, but nodded out of politeness. "Well then… until we meet again, Feybourne." He murmured with a deep bow, and the last of the darkness faded.

Ginny felt herself slam back into her body then, an almost physical force crushing her down. She gasped as she fought to pull the aching in her body under control again, when a very familiar voice broke the silence of the evening.

"Well look what we got 'ere boys. A lonely little weasel, all back from deh dead. Ain't that sweet." Ginny could feel a cold rage seep into her bones at those words, an inhuman need to rip and shred take hold of her heart. She turned over, and stared into the masked eyes of the laughing man, death eater.

"Yeah, Weasel. Let's play, bitch."

To be continued… 


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Ginny, nor any of the Potter characters, aside from my own. Everything else belongs to it's respected creator.

**Warning!**: This Fic is Rated for Violence, Bloodshed, Gore, And several Adult themes.

**A/N:**Just as a word of warning, the beginning half of the chapter might seem a little confusing . That said, I hope you enjoy it. Also, AGAIN, Let me take a moment to thank ALL my loyal supporters. You guys are the best.^_^ Alright, I'mma shut up now, let ya'll enjoy. Thanks for stopping in again!

**~Ginger and Ash~**

**Chapter 11**

**...To hell. With furry little bunnies.**

Sauntering from the shadows, Laughing Man stepped into the clearing, flanked by at least three other Death Eaters. Or at least, Ginny assumes that's what they were. Yet, judging from their attire (simple jackets: both tweed and suede, finished by more mugglewear) and general unruly state, one could only assume they belong to a different branch. Which meant Laughing Man's in charge.

All four Death Eaters had their wands drawn, aimed down at Ginny, smiles snarling their faces darkly. Frustration set in, knowing that she couldn't fight them and hope to win, yet not about to just lie down and die. Yet, Laughing Man didn't seem to know just what he's dealing with anymore. He twirled his wand for a moment then leveled it on Ginny, snarling out, "_Crucio!"_ as he does.

Pain tore into Ginny's body, ripping at her limbs, stealing her breath. But Ginny had dealt with this pain almost daily for months. She knows she's back on the ground--could feel the tingling of the grass pressing against her exposed forearm—but she doesn't fight the pain. No, instead she absorbed it, taking it in. Then, little by little, she started to shut off her emotions. Joy and hope were the first to go, the strongest. On its heels, nervousness, and trepidation; fear.

She took each one, and walled them off, shut them down, until there was nothing but pain and rage. She could feel her body arching off the ground, and knew she didn't have much time left. She could hear Laughing Man's padded footsteps as he approached her writhing form. One last step, one last thing.

She fed the pain to the rage.

With a popping in her ears, she felt the change. Her eyes snapped open, flashing with unbridled rage as they locked on Laughing Man. He had stepped too close, and a wicked smile graced her face as she rolled to one side. Laughing Man didn't comprehend what was happening until she was already back on her hands and feet. She whirled out with one leg, cracking it solidly across his ankle with enough force that even through the rage she could hear the bone snap and Laughing Man screamed in sudden agony.

He fell to the ground clutching his shattered ankle, but Ginny paid him no more heed, her hand snatching up her wand from her pocket as she completed the spin. The Death Eaters reacted with muddy slowness, and Ginny laughed; _Fools. Fish in a barrel._

"_Expelliarmus!"_ She roared, and the outermost Death Eater was caught by the blast, launched into the air with all the force of a cannon ball. He disappeared from view as the other two Death Eaters finally caught on-- swirling towards her whilst leveling their wands on her.

She noted their expressions of sudden horror and confusion just as surely as she noted the change in the atmosphere. The winds grew cold, the dew on the leaves turned to ice. She felt her mind connect with the world around her, and sensed him. She smiled wickedly as she felt the energy bulge around her-- _his_ energy.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ The Death Eaters roared in unison—_fools_. Their spells raced towards Ginny—and shattered against the wall of ice that formed before her.

He doesn't scream, doesn't make a sound; he simply lunged from the tree line into the clearing, the ground erupting into a field of frozen icicles. The Death Eaters shouted in alarm, and started firing off spells at random. Ginny watched with glee as he passed into the field, his dark hair loose from its ponytail, his silver eyes gleaming with battle lust.

Suddenly, she felt a slight twinge to her right, a firing of synapses warning her of danger. She dived forward at the same time Laughing Man screamed, "_Avada Kedavra!_" A jet of green light passes through where she'd been seconds before. She rolled for a moment, coming back to her hands and knees with a snarl of challenge—unlike Nicholas; she was very much of the vocal orientation.

She realized idly that her wand slipped from her fingers during the roll, but doesn't care now; she had no need of such a weak instrument anyway. She felt the fire reach out from her heart, answering her call for strength, and then lunged at Laughing Man. He screamed and fires off spell after spell, but as the fire took hold, it wrapped about her body, shattering the meager spells he threw as simply as a baby with a china cup—one happy movement, and everything was gone.

Soon, it became a close-quarters contest, fire lashing from Ginny's hands in wicked ribbons, Laughing Man ducking and dodging as frantically as he could. The bastard had taken the time to heal his shattered ankle it seemed. Yet, he wasn't used to dealing with someone as close in as Ginny, and couldn't get a single spell off for it.

Twice, she caught him across the chest, setting his clothes aflame. His every step retreated him from her, but she refused to let him escape. Not now. Still, he slowly began to calm enough that he was falling into the rhythm of evading her blows—she would have to end this little game soon. She just needed a distraction.

It came in the form of one of the death eaters slamming into a tree next to the two combatants. Both had been startled into stasis, the new arrival simply thudding against the tree. He groaned and tried to pull himself back together—until Nicholas descended on him. There was a terrified squeak from the man as Nicholas' hand closed around the Death Eater's throat—and then the man's body was ripped to shreds as his blood turned to icicles.

Nicholas spared the corpse a moment's snarl, then threw him aside like a limp rag doll, his inhuman silver eyes locking back on his other victim in the field. With his departure, both Ginny and Laughing Man seemed to snap back into reality, yet Laughing Man was slow on the reaction. His wand hand had been out in preparation to launch a spell that was now long forgotten, for his next move was to try and snatch his hand back to his body.

Ginny though was faster, her nimble fingers closing around his wrist deftly, before twisting his arm. There was a light popping sound from within Laughing Man's wrist, and the air was filled with his scream of agony, met by Ginny's murmured, "That was for my father."

Laughing Man grew desperate then, wanting to be free of this demon any way he could. He lashed out with his free hand, aiming the blow at eye level with Ginny. She caught it on the forearm of her free hand, again stopping him at the wrist. She drove her hand up his arm then, smashing it into his throat with brutal efficiency whilst hooking her foot behind his. With one shift, she threw him off balance, slamming him into the ground. "That one's for Harry." She said coolly, and then reached back.

Slipping her hand across her belt, she found where she'd tucked the combat knife for ease of access, and flicked it deftly into her hand. She smiled wickedly then, raising the blade over her head, "And_ this one's for me!!"_ she screamed, and then rammed the blade into the mask.

XxX

When everything was done, Ginny was forced to side-along apparate with Nicholas, soon finding themselves miles away from any form of civilization. Thankfully, the only way to track an apparition, even while under the Trace, was to grab the person as they jumped. Though they could have done this before, they hadn't wanted to chance the ministry (or Death Eaters now) finding them. There'd been no time for such precautions, though this time, for surely the ministry would be on its way within minutes. Nicholas had moved quickly then, grabbing everything in sight and tossing it into the bags so that they might apparate away.

Now, while he set up camp, Ginny found herself on the edge of the nearby stream, trembling and gagging. She couldn't stop the tremors that shook her body, nor could she stem the churning disgust she found in herself for what she had done. She knew he had to die, _knew_ it was the right thing to do.

Didn't matter.

Not to her body. She'd taken a life. That she'd done so willingly, happily, was of no consequence. No, instead it only made things worse. She fought the tears threatening to overwhelm her and tried to control herself.

Nicholas approached quietly then, and once near enough, he whispered, "You didn't. Ginny, tell me you didn't."

She looked over her shoulder then, and saw his face. He was white as snow. Her eyes drifted from his face, down to what he held out in his hand. The _Molten Heart_. Driven through, with a gleaming, crystalline blade.

The same blade she'd used to kill Voldemort with in her vision. "No..." She whispered pleadingly, fear overcoming her disgust. She rose to her feet, frantically moving to take the _Molten Heart_ from Nicholas, "No, no, no, no!!"

Taking it, her first instinct was to try and remove the blade, until Nicholas placed his hand on hers. She looked back up at him then, and he murmured, "Listen."

Puzzled, she tried to still the frantic beat of her heart. After several moments, she finally heard what he was speaking of. The _Molten Heart was_ alive-- And it was singing. Startled, she drew back for a moment, and then pressed in all the more. She recognized the tune, one that she herself often sang when depressed. Strange that she hadn't thought of it.

It always helped to cheer her up or to calm her down when she was nervous. Within moments, her eyes drifted close as she began humming it herself, her trembling dissipating, her nerves calming. It was an odd sensation, but the stone brought its own comfort to her. When she opened her eyes again, Nicholas was staring at her intently, enough so that she couldn't tell if he was wrathful, or scared.

"What, Nick?" She whispered out of aggravation. His impersonation of a silent ghost was starting to bother her.

"You did. You finished the second task." Finally, he moved; shaking his head for a moment before leaning against a tree. She had the very distinct feeling that he'd rather _bash _his head against the tree then lean on it, but refrained out of general health concerns with such a course. "Son of a bitch," He growled, "We're being played."

She looked at him with confusion in her eyes, and leaned against a tree of her own. "What do you mean?"

Again, he shook his head, "The second task, it just… Gah! And to think I left you alone long enough to go get groceries, and you practically killed yourself!"

"Kill myself—what? What are you talking about Nick? What's going on?" She demanded, yet he shook (and nodded) his head, "The second task. It's not supposed to happen yet. _Especially_ when we don't even know what or where your beast is!"

A sudden, bone deep dread fell over Ginny then, "Why Nick? What happened? What _haven't_ you told me?"

He took a deep breath then, then lightly knocked his head against the tree, giving into the temptation, "Merlin take it," He growled, then turned back to Ginny, "All right, I _really_ didn't want to tell you this part. 'Cuz honestly, if I did, who would finish the GodHand?"

"Ni-ick…" She hissed warningly, and he hurried in his explanation.

"Gah, fine! Dammit all! The second task—it takes a part of you. Your greatest fears, greatest strengths, your truest desire. Pits you against them, makes you face them; so that you can find the real you. But—"he said, hesitating for a second, and then continued, "to do so it… it takes a piece of your soul."

"_What?!_" Ginny practically screamed as she launched from the tree, her hands clenched in fists. She could feel the rage swelling inside her, but held it in check… for the moment.

"See, this is why I _didn't_ want to tell you." Nicholas said in a placating manner that only served to piss Ginny off more. Still, he stood his ground, taking her wrath in stride.

"Nicholas, you better start talking, _now._" She growled, finding herself seconds from strangling him with her bare hands, "_When_ were you going to tell me?"

"Hopefully? Never. Once the three pieces are united, the fragment taken returns to your soul. It's only used as a reagent for the GodHand, binding the ring to you eternally, whatever that means. I'd hoped—"he said, kicking lightly at the ground with one foot, "that the second task wouldn't occur yet. It isn't supposed to able to be induced unless you're in astral form, _and_ have the first crystal with you."

She rolled her eyes at this, "Maybe if you'd _told_ me –"she started but he only scoffed in return.

"Oh right, sure. I can just imagine that conversation, 'Hey Ginger, I need you to keep away from that stone.' 'Why Nick?' 'Oh, nothing really; it'll just rip your soul out.'"

"See, was that so hard?" Ginny teased, less furious, yet still angry.

He snorted, "Oh, don't be an ass, Ginger." Finally, his façade fell slightly, "Look… I'm sorry. I should have told you. It just…" he faltered, for once, unsure.

Ginny sighed, taking this as best she could. "Well. Obviously, fragmenting my soul can't be good for me." She thought for a moment, considering something "Is this like the horcruxes?"

"Yes and no." Nicholas replies with a roll of his shoulder, "I think they got the idea for the horcruxes from this, but I don't really know. I think the difference is a horcrux is a fragment of your soul that's maintained in another vessel. This doesn't. The second task usually isn't induced until the beast is at least _known_. Because without the fragment, both halves of your soul will deteriorate."

She'd feared that part, and could feel her ire rising again. Too bad she had to quell it for now. Nicholas was her only hope of salvation now. "How long?"

"At most? A few days. But, keep the stone close to you now, at all times. Contradictory, I know, but _now_ it should slow the collapse. You have a few weeks left _at the absolute most_ to find and conquer your beast."

Ginny shook her head then, frustrated, "You keep saying conquer. Hell, you said we were played. What do you mean?"

Nicholas gave a cold laugh at that, taking note of her use of the word "we" instead of individualizing it, "I can't tell you that first one. You'll have to find your own path on that, as I did. Played… well, even with your skill in Projection, a trance, and the crystal, you shouldn't have been able to induce the Task. That means someone else forced it, and whoever they are, they aren't your friend."

She scoffed at that, motioning with one hand, "And where does that leave you?"

His expression darkened then, as if her words actually hurt him, "I would never hurt you, Ginger. Least, no—"

But she didn't let him finish, "_Bullshit _Nicholas! The first time we met, you tried to _kill_ me! You were going to _let _me rip my own soul out without telling me!" With each accusation, she jabbed a finger into his chest, her anger finally getting the better of her, "What _else_ haven't you told me, Nick? Hmm? What other secrets are you keeping from me?!"

His eyes grew cold then, distant; more distant than ever before. Slowly, he backed away, turning for camp. He got ten steps away, when he called back, over his shoulder,

"I was sworn to protect you, Ginny. You're the only thing that really matters."

Before she could even ask what the hell that meant, he was gone, disappearing back to the camp.

**To be continued…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ginny, nor any of J.K.R's characters. Nicholas however, is mine.

**Warning:** This fic is rated for violence, bloodshed, strong language, and Several Adult themes.

**~Ginger& Ash~**

Chapter 12

**The Rising Tide**

Silence hung in the air between the two travelers, as heavily and numbing as deaths scythe looming in the night. Two whole days had passed silently between them since the battle against Laughing Man, with bare glances and greetings. Everything felt awkward and troublesome now, and Ginny honestly found herself wishing she'd never learned the truth of the second stage. A part of her missed Nicholas' companionship, and while there had been long stretches of silence (because honestly, Nicholas wasn't one to talk much) it had always been born from peace and a simple calm.

This though felt cold and sterile, the sensation akin to a knife being dragged over a chalkboard. Worry had etched itself into her thoughts, and every few minutes she caught herself casting a glance in Nicholas' direction. What was she hoping for, an apology? With a man like him, she highly doubted something like that would _ever_ happen. Not that it mattered either way. He had broken her trust, and it would be a while still before she could ever truly forgive him for that.

She sighed, and focused back on her current task; pacing herself through several quick jabs and cross strikes, shifting into a low sweeping kick that ended with a flip. She nailed the landing flawlessly (something that she'd been trying to do for weeks) and almost swore she could hear Harry, Nicholas, _someone_ cheering for her. Yet, there was no one, Nicholas engrossed in setting the camp up and Harry... Harry had been strangely silent these past few nights.

So much so, she'd been tempted to cross over to his side, but something had always stopped her. She was growing worried, and if he didn't show tonight she would make the crossing herself, interruptions-be-damned.

Sighing, she shook the thought from her head and focused on finishing the full routine, and noticed idly the bloom of heat radiating around her. She'd fashioned for herself a short thong to tie the _Molten Heart _off on, and currently had it dangling from a belt loop at her side. She felt the ebb and flow of the heat around her, felt it build and gather around her hands. She could honestly _feel_ the flames licking eagerly under his skin, ready to be unleashed. There was power in this, oh yes.

She started to gather that power, to test it, when the hooting of a nearby owl caught her attention. Turning, her gaze fell on a small owl, worn out after days of travel. And attached to its leg, was a small letter. Her gaze flickered to Nicholas, who'd also frozen the moment he'd seen the small bird. Cursing, he stopped what he was doing and started pulling the tents back together; throwing things into the duffel bags as Ginny raced to help him. They had almost everything packed and ready when the attack came then.

He plummeted from the skies, throwing off his disillusionment charm as he came, already in the midst of casting a stunning spell. Ginny saw the auror first, and called on the flames that had so eagerly been ready to go forth before. They answered her call, roaring into the air in a hungry wave of flame. The fire caught his spell, consumed it as easily as it would any piece of timber, and then raced on to snarl through and about his broom. It ate through it within a matter of moments, leaving the man screaming as he plummeted the rest of the way to the ground.

A wicked smile crossed her lips as she heard the feeble crack when the man landed. Rage swelled within her, snarling along her spine, infusing her with an inhuman strength. She could feel herself lift her arms, and summon forth the flames that would end the man's life. She could do it. She had the power, had the right. He deserved to die. Yet in back of her mind, she felt it. Felt the wrongness in what she was about to do. The rage seemed uncontrollable. Unbridled, it coursed through her veins, and with a start she realized it was like venom. Poison in her blood. She fought the rage, fought the all-consuming power that swelled within her.

She couldn't end his life, not like this. It wasn't right. She could see his eyes, and realized he was but a boy, no older then she herself. Likely conscripted, imperioed into service. He was a victim, just like herself. Just like countless others. She fought with every ounce of will she had to stop herself; to hold back the hell she sought to unleash. And just like that, she felt his grasp, cold as ice and as firm as steel against her arm. She felt that chill spread through her body, numbing the rage, numbing the power to the point that she could control it.

Once in power again, she shut it off, boxed it away. She shivered and drew in on herself even as Nicholas pulled her into another side-along disapparation. When the compression subsided, Ginny collapsed to the ground, fighting off the tears that threatened her. What was wrong with her? She'd nearly killed that boy, and for what? He was just as much a victim as she herself.

Nicholas stood beside her as she fought to control herself, a silent wraith against her senses. She didn't know how long she stayed like that only that finally she heard the bags thump against the ground and Nicholas sigh. He sat down across from her, his knees touching hers. Yet, as he always did he remained silent until she whispered, "What's happening to me…?"

He let out another deep sigh, and she could almost see him shake his head. "Nothing really; just your magic awakening."

She glared at him, and wiped away the uncharacteristically blotchy tears, then growled, "_Nothing?! You call this nothing?!_ I'm leaking worse then a bloody faucet!"

Nicholas chuckled slightly at that. _Chuckled._ "What the hell is so funny?!"

He smiled wryly at that, "Nothing Ginger. It's just a side effect of my own Magic."

"Wha--?" She started, but he cut right over her,

"The Magic we wield needs a base. As I'd said before, belief magic almost. If you draw strength from your faith in a god, or gods, then the magic will draw upon that faith, and react accordingly. If you draw your strength from your trust in your body, in your ability to crush your foe with your bare hands, then your magic will draw out your strength, heighten it. And if you draw your strength from your emotions, link your magic to them, than it's only natural that your magic would draw them out, and make them even more powerful."

He flexed his hand, and across the surface of his palm fire alit upon it, " Fire. Courage. Rage. Lust. Passion. Fire is all these things. It draws out your greatest passions, and increases them ten fold."

He closed his fist, extinguishing the flames before ice coated his hand, "Water. Gentleness begets water, flowing. Calm. Wrath begets ice. Depression as well. Sadness. And a spirit of cold Hatred."

He flicked his hand out then, and a small torrent of gale force winds erupted from his hand, " Air. Panicked. Unstable. Wicked. And at the same time, Joyful. Freedom."

He crushed his hand into a fist again, and the very earth around him trembled, erupting into a solid Stalagmite. "Earth. Resolution. Solidarity. Absolute calm. Unwavering faith." He let the stalagmite go; relaxing his hand in the process, and Ginny felt her own body relax in result. She'd heard him talk before about his control of the different elements, but had never actually seen him perform such. It was… well, terrifying really. To think that he wielded _that_ much power and he was only showing her a smidgen of his full power. What would it be like to actually wield all four elements, in full force?

She gave a small shiver, and he continued, "Right now, your emotions rule you. They are your greatest strength, your greatest weakness. And when you bring your magic to bear along side them, it not only feeds off your emotions, but also pours fuel into the proverbial flame. Your rage grows, your bloodlust snarls out of control, and your lust grows beyond comparison. Without the GodHand, you're helpless before the onslaught of your own powers."

Her brows furrowed at that, "Wait, what does it have to do with anything? You've never quite fully explained what it is, or quite _what_ it does."

Again that classic Nicholas smirk, "Technically? It's a miniature you. See with you, you draw your power from your emotions. The same can be said of almost anyone with magical power. With the GodHand, your magic feeds off the ring instead of you. It serves as a balance for your powers, a well of near endless energy for your magic. With it only half complete, your Power is rampaging out of control. It'll remain the same until you've created your own GodHand. And without it...? You'll go insane within months."

**XxX**

After their discussion, Nicholas left Ginny to sort through it all, her emotions settling again as she contemplated everything. What he said made sense in a way. Nothing ever came freely. Magic-- belief or wand magic—required certain things to master. Family was much the same. So was love. Everything came at a price, took effort to accomplish. But, Ginny supposed then that if there were no effort, there would be no enjoyment. The fight, the struggle to make things right, it made the end result all the sweeter—or all the bitterer.

Hours had passed as she contemplated this, and as night had fallen the duo retired to their respective tents and dreams. Yet, Ginny could find no peace, no rest. Harry had yet to return. In fact, she felt no inkling of his presence, not even a hint of his emotions. Growing worried, she took it upon herself to see what was wrong, closing her eyes and focusing on calming her heart beat.

She focused outside her body, and within moments she would be projecting herself away from the small camp. Or she should have been. Instead, pain laced into her chest, ripped through her heart. Agony to match anything she'd felt before tore into her body, leaving her limbs numb and her senses dull as she curled into a ball. Idly, her mind made the comment of how frequent she was becoming acquainted with her own knees. Then with a sarcastic kind of amusement she wondered why she was answering her own thoughts, or just how far gone she was to have actually noticed.

She shook herself, pushing her own fracturing mentality to the side. She had one terrifying thought in her mind, one all consuming fear that was gnawing at her soul. Either something horrible had happened to Harry or… she'd effectively been cut off from him.

Throwing back the covers as that fear sank in and took root, Ginny rushed from her tent. "Nick!" She called. "Nicholas!" She called again, across the camp. Surely he heard her. Yet, there was no stirring from within his tent. No movement, no sound.

"NICK!" She hollered this time, yet still there was no response. Growling, she crossed the distance between her tent and his. She pulled back the flap at the same time she drew in breath to bark at him for ignoring her. Yet the moment her head crossed the barrier the tent flap proved to be, there was a slight popping in her ears, as if the air itself had suddenly compressed.

Almost immediately she noted the lack of outside noises, of even the simplest thing such as sight. Nothing within Nicholas' tent was visible save the darkness that met her eyes. For a moment, she thought that Nicholas was gone, until she heard the barest of sounds from within the bowls of the tent. She strained her ears, tried to focus and pick up the sound itself. What was that? It sounded like… crying? Whimpering perhaps?

"Nick?" Ginny whispered, worry overriding all thoughts of anger or discontent. Something was wrong, she was sure of it now. Taking a step inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust; yet when they did not, she attempted something else. Reaching down, she took the _Molten Heart_ from its thong and focused, just as Nicholas had taught her so many times. Within moments, she could feel her connection with the world itself take hold, could feel the rhythm of the energy pulsing through the world as drumbeats within her heart. When she opened her eyes, the vision that was presented to her was one very different from what she'd seen only moments before. Where there had been darkness before, now the ground around her was illuminated with pulsing blue ripples, waves of Nicholas' power presented to her through her connection to the _Molten Heart_.

For a moment, she was lost to simply marveling at the beauty the _Heart_ presented to her. Yet, two things became apparent to her; things that made her want to shut off her sight and never gaze upon it again. First, while admittedly she had not noticed it immediately, there was a definite… coldness to the air. To the very power that radiated from Nicholas. When she focused on it, she found it harsh, unforgiving. It bore down on her chest, as if Nicholas' power itself tried to crush the very life from her body. Yet under this, when one fought it and pushed deeper, she found a deep-seated sorrow. Pain and misery snared around each other, ripping at ones heart with vengeful claws, bitter loneliness driven in like sharp thorns to torment and rend the flesh.

All of it radiated off him in a fountain of hatred pain and misery. She wondered how in the world one man could feel so much despair, and keep going, how it was even possible. Yet at the same time, she knew another, nearly just as bad: Harry. They'd both been through so much, so many, many things. And with Harry he'd always carried on through sheer willpower, a refusal to give up, to let the darkness win. He had always had a guiding light, a compass that only he knew and followed. And Ginny felt that Nicholas was much the same. He had some goal, some central point that kept him going even when the darkest of hours approached.

Yet even the brightest torch only has so much fuel. Eventually it dims; eventually the Darkness seeps in. No one could hide from his or her inner demons. Not even Nicholas, it seemed.

Ginny oriented on him, on the central point of all the emotions she felt around her. She could literally see him for all the waves of energy coming off of him. Slowly, she moved to his side, could hear his whimpering. _Merlin what happened to him?_ she thought as she placed a soft, soothing hand to his forehead, brushing his hair back as she tried her best to calm him. Yet, all it did was seem to worsen things, to darken the dreams. He began to twist, to wreathe in his sleep.

"No… no… stop it…don' hurt--….no… mom… _NO!"_ he screamed the last, his eyes snapping wide as his body reacted. One hand wrapped around the wrist that lay against his forehead, binding her in a iron grip before whipping her off balance and pinning her beneath him. She felt the cold steel pressed against her throat a second later, and just as she was sure he would kill her, there was a hint of hesitation. She looked up, and met his eyes—cold and full of wrath—then froze. Not because of the hatred, the rage; but because his eyes were _not_ silver. They were colder then any glacier, a bright blue that had been tainted with graying rage.

So much pain and rage boiled behind those eyes, so much indecision. She could see some beast, some feral monster roiling within the depths of his eyes, _wanting_ to see her blood spilled.

Yet, he stepped back, retreated into the darkness of the tent.

"Get out." were his only snarled words to her, and once her brain comprehended that he was not indeed going to kill her, she fled from his tent. No one, it seemed, would be sleeping that night.

**XxX**

The following two days passed in cold silence, an insurmountable amount of distance between Ginny and Nicholas. He hadn't looked at her, hadn't spoken. He simply moved; a silent guide into a realm unknown. They'd passed into the first stretch of the mountains several days past, and were now well out of the reach of the Ministry, and the Dark Lord.

The thought alone was such a stretch that Ginny found it dubious just to imagine. It just didn't seem possible. How could they honestly have escaped? And when Nicholas signaled for a break, Ginny herself collapsed to the floor, her legs screaming. Sure, she was in better shape than she'd ever been in her entire _life_, but her legs _hurt so much._ As normal, they'd walked, and when she said walked, she meant everywhere. Ginny herself found it nearly unbelievable that they'd covered so much ground in nearly two months. Thinking back, it felt like Hogwarts, and everything to do with it belonged to another life.

So much had happened, so many things that changed and shifted her entire scope of living. She wondered idly, what the others were doing; Neville, Luna, Seamus… each and every member of not only the D.A., but also every student within the halls of Hogwarts. How were they fairing?

Obviously, the Carrows would make life as miserable as possible at school, and maybe then some. Not to even mention Snape…

She shuddered at that. It was the first time she'd actually thought about him in a very long time, and it brought back memories of the night she'd left. She could still remember his face, twisted into a cold sneer. The contempt he'd shown for not only her, but Hagrid as well. Something hit her then. She remembered the dream, what had seemed like a vision at the time. Yet, now that she thought about it, so long after it had happened, it seemed more and more real.

Had Snape actually been acting on Dumbledore's orders? If so, then to what end? Why would he send her into the forest in such an impossible task? _Unless_ he _knew_ even then that she'd run. The cogs in her head started spinning then, and though she was jumping to conclusions, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense, felt right. He'd set up such an impossible task because he knew she wouldn't attempt it. He'd been egging her on, leading her to make the choices she did. But then, to what end? What did he gain from it?

Or did he gain anything? She cast a glance off towards Nicholas then, and remembered him as well. His sudden appearance at the lake, his seemingly omnipotence when it came to knowing when and what she was doing, before she did it.

Was it possible that he was there _because_ of Snape? Was Snape –_somehow —_ an ally in all this? She remembered what she could about the man, how he'd supposedly been a double agent of Dumbledore's, feeding the Dark Lord false information. She thought about the painting, how it'd spoken to her in the Headmaster's office_. Like a marionette on the strings he maneuvered Snape…_ And then it snapped into focus. His last words came back to her: "_Something worth fighting for, or dying."_

He'd set it up. He'd placed Snape exactly where he wanted him, _knew_ that Snape would be able to keep _the children_ alive. Even if it meant his death, it was a price that Dumbledore had been willing to pay, to ensure their safety, to ensure that the Dark Lord, fell. And if he'd arbitrated all of that, then Nicholas's presence would have also been a "known". Which meant that Dumbledoor _knew_ of Nicholas.

Yet, within the last few weeks, things had changed. Nicholas was unsure of things, made mistakes. Perhaps Dumbledore's planning had not stretched that far? Or… something else had interfered._"We're being played. Someone set this up, set_ you _up."_

Ginny reached down, one hand clasping around the _Molten Heart_ For comfort. And when she did, she remembered him, the man in white. Perhaps he had a hand in all this? But to what end? What was his angle, his goal? He'd mentioned three objects, objects she'd been said to obtain. And if she did? What then? What side was he on?

More and more questions abounded, swirled around each other, until her concentration was broken by a shout of alarm from Nicholas. She whirled in time to see what had drawn his attention: a short man, covered in black armor. In his hands appeared to be what looked like a heavy crossbow—a crossbow that he had aimed right at Ginny.

She felt the world slow; felt the adrenaline pump into her veins as comprehension and action met. She dove for cover as fast as she could, but it wasn't enough. She hit the ground in a solid heap, and moved to push herself to her feet before their assailant pinned her to the ground.

She heard the _twang_ as the crossbow fired, felt her blood boil as she rolled over. She would not be killed like a helpless dog. She drew on the flames within her heart, summoned the wrath to her fingertips. She meant to burn the arrow down in a wall of flame, but found herself too slow to action. No, instead Nicholas stepped in, a solid wall of ice forming between him and their attacker. The air was filled with a light _shink_, as if glass rubbed against glass, then a dull thudding sound came from Nicholas.

Time froze as he turned wide eyed to Ginny. The arrow had punched right through his heart.

He slumped to the ground before her, and for several startled seconds she simply stared. It wasn't possible. Nicholas. You couldn't stop Nicholas. Nothing could punch through his ice. And yet, the arrow had. These bastards had. They meant to kill her, likely had killed Nicholas.

Ginny felt the rage, rage beyond all possible understanding swell up inside her. And as her vision turned a blood red, the very mountain pass itself burned.

To be continued…

**A/N:** So yeah. It's been a bit, hasn't it..? Heh sorry bout that. Life's been… well, hellish lately. I lost my net for awhile, lost a friend or two, and lost my muse/will to write. It was hard. It still is.

But, I'm doing what I can, and trying to move forward. The chapters might come slower now, and might be shorter, but I **_Will_** finish this. I thank each and every one of you guys who've supported me thus far. And I'd like to also thank all the Members of the Review Lounge, Too. Without them, I might not be here. At all.

So anyways, Keep reading, things are getting good. I'll see you next time, yeah?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hello again! It's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry bout that. Things just got intensely crazy over here, and that's almost literally. Plus... I just sorta lost the will to write for awhile. But, it's back! Least, I hope it is. I've been writing consecutively for the past week or so, so hopefully that'll bode well!

Anyways, enough of my prattling. It's time for the long awaited 13thchapter!

**Warning!:**This Chapter is rated M for violence, blood, and several adult themes. Also, this chapter contains several**Very Disturbing scenes**. You've been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ginny, nor any of J.K. Rowling's Characters. Nicholas however, is**MINE.**

**Chapter 13**

**Way of the Wolf**

"**Every path, has a beginning."**

Ginny stumbled as she ran, grunting as her shoulder clipped the hard surface of the tunnel wall beside her. She strained to draw in breath, hefting Nicholas's limp body higher over her shoulders. Her very bones ached and her limbs burned, but Nicholas had taught her mastery over that part of herself: to push harder, and further then ever before.

She could hear heavy footfalls behind her, and knew her pursuers were right on her heels. After setting the mountain path ablaze, she'd ran to Nicholas' side, fear, anger, and a thousand other emotions warring through her brain. She'd taken a moment to collect herself before extracting the arrow from the dark haired man's chest. Surprisingly, the arrowhead came with it, and though blood did pour out, it was not the torrent she'd expected from a punctured heart. After considering it a moment, she'd decided that her best bet was to cauterize the wound and hope for the best. Once done, she'd thought them to be safe— and how wrong she'd been._Hundreds_of men came streaming from the mountains around them, all armed for war. While it was true, she could likely summon the strength to crisp all of them in their armor, she had already felt her sanity beginning to slip further and further beyond her grasp. If she pushed any more, she would come unhinged or worse._Can't have that, now can we?_She thought to herself, then immediately chastised herself for… well, talking to herself. She wanted to laugh at her own insanity, yet a saner part of her knew she was treading very dangerous waters at the moment.

If she let herself, she could easily slip off the edge, and fall into complete insanity. Wouldn't that be a sight for those little blackened bastards? A fully raging madwoman, complete with flapping flames of death. Or perhaps they would be waves? Waves of flames?

She shook herself, fighting the bubbling insanity that clawed so desperately at her mind. She had to get father, had to get away. Shoving off the wall she did her best to race down the tunnel path lugging Nicholas with her. Once she'd realized what dire straits they'd been in, she'd gathered Nicholas up, leaving most of their belongings behind, then had hiked deeper into the mountains until stumbling along the tunnel entrance. True, she had no idea what lie in wait down its pathways, but what choice had she had? In here at least, it seemed those pursuing her were having as much trouble navigating as she was._Or, they were deliberately forcing her into a corner_.

Yet there wasn't much she could do about that. Her only hope was to find some place to hide while she treated Nicholas's wounds. Maybe then she could find some way to get them out of this hellhole. She doubted it, but it was her only chance. Fleeing as she was, she almost didn't notice the sudden change in not only temperature, but also surroundings. At once she took in the cavernous expanse before her, a roof so high that even if she had a torch, she doubted she could see the top. The ground was littered with hundreds of stalagmites, jutting up like so many razor sharp teeth. A slight thrill of hope entered her then. In_this_place, she could lose them. Out maneuver them. They'd already proven slow, and all she had to do was lead them deep enough to outflank the horde behind her.

Ginny ran then, ran with all her might, calling on whatever reserve energy she had in her. She had to do this, had to make this work. There was_no_alternative.

As she ran, she tried her best to estimate how many foes she was dealing with, judging from the steady thundering of boot against rock. The more and more she listened; the more and more she wondered whom she was dealing with. Surely a force of this size required a small_city_to support it. And surely anything_that_big the Ministry would know about. Wouldn't they..?

A small shiver of fear went down her spine at that thought, before striking the base of her spine and reverberating throughout her body with the force of a gong bashing against her teeth. Fear tried to grip hold on her as she slid to a halt --the sounds coming before her as well as behind. She'd either been outpaced-- or trapped.

Letting out a tired sigh, Ginny noted idly that she stood center in a ring of the stalagmites. Fine by her. She set Nicholas down as gently as she could against one of the stone teeth, then stepped to the middle of the ring and focused on the fire within her. She reached deep into the_Molten Heart_, binding herself with it in every sense of the word. She felt the world shift, the currents of the world flow into her again, and opened her eyes upon her enemy.

Tidal wave force would be a understatement. No, this was more like a sea of wrath. It swelled and rushed her from all sides, like water filling a sink hole. A small smile touched lips at that; if she would die here, it would be in a blaze so great that she would blow the face off this mountain.

She took a moment to lower herself into a sense of calm, of letting the fear, excitement, anger-- every emotion she could experience flow into to her, let it do its job. And then on the fifth count, she steeled herself as she sensed when the first assaulter crossed the barrier of her ring of stones. She whirled to meet him as the flames ignited along her skin, and took a bare moment to gauge him. He was short of stature, but moved with a speed Ginny did not expect, lashing out with the short sword in his hand as quickly as a serpent. Leaning her head back from the decapitating blow, she swept out with her right hand, wrapping it quickly around the wrist of her assailant while in the same movement swirling her right foot behind his own booted heel and jabbing her left elbow into the man's. There was a pop and scream as the man's sword arm moved in the wrong direction, his grip on his sword loosening enough for Ginny to take it for herself by pulling the sword up and over her head before reversing direction in a slash that took the man's head.

Ginny didn't stop to contemplate the fact that she had just taken life. Did not stop to marvel at the ease with which she had cleaved through flesh and bone, the jolt that had flashed up her arm and into her shoulder when steel met flesh. She had left those emotions behind her the moment Nicholas had been struck.

Whirling from the corpse, she met steel against steel to her next foe, her overhead slash to his cross guard counter. She thought to bare down on him, but knew that in her current situation a pause could be fatal. Instead, she let him shift her blade to one side, and then rammed her fist into his armored face. In a burst of flame she melted his face to ash, his entire corpse being lifted from its feet and blasted back into his compatriots.

In that same moment, agony on a level she'd never felt before washed through her. She fell to her knees for but a moment, glancing down at the arrow that protruded from her stomach.

Damn.

That was going to totally ruin her day. Every emotion that she'd kept carefully walled away came crashing against her mental defenses, threatened to overwhelm her._Not yet._She thought._Not yet, you sadistic freaks!_

She drove herself to her feet then on sheer willpower, whirling and screaming in agony with the movement. She didn't care. She met steel against steel, and set flame to flesh with all the righteous fury of a dying woman. She burnt them again and again, slaughtered them as they came for her dying breath.

She felt it happening, felt the life leaving her. Merlin but this wasn't how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to grow old, get married, and have kids. Lead a normal life; a happy life.

Wasn't she..?

Another blow caught her through the calf, and Ginny found herself on her knees again, this time staring down the length of bloody steel into the Amethyst eyes of her killer. He smiled slightly, nodding to her, "You fought valiantly, Fey. But we will not serve Loki. Yours is a wasted effort." He took a moment breath, as if steeling himself to do something that repulsed him, but that had to be done.

His arm steadied as he brought the sword back.

_Damnit, no! There has to be something!_

He grimaced, and then slashed forward for the decapitating strike.

_SOMETHING, ANYTHING! DAMNIT, THIS CAN'T BE THE END!_

And then she felt it.

Felt a power beyond anything she'd ever felt welling within her; from within the_Molten Heart._In a burst of blazing heat, it erupted from her very flesh in a tidal wave of flames. The man was thrown back, consumed by the flames-- as were countless hundreds of others.She felt herself stand, felt her head fall back in a maniacal laugh. She raised her hand-- no, her claw of a fist and where she indicated, the ground turned to molten flame. The men burned-- consumed by the almighty flames that she summoned. They came again and again, burning through everything, destroying without mercy or cause. They fled and she butchered them.

She felt one behind her, one that had somehow slipped past her notice, and she whirled, flames in hand. His hand caught her own, and somehow negated the flames she wielded. Fine, she still had steel. She would rip the life from his belly with cold steel. Yet before she could move again, she felt him twist the wrist held in his hand, felt the sudden pang of sharp agony as the bones dislocated. It shattered all concentration, and she felt her walls fall.

Felt the babbling fear, the insanity of her cries of desperation. She realized that it hadn't only been the voices of the men she'd heard-- it'd been her own. She felt the sharp crack as the man connected his forehead with her own-- curious, all the men thus far had been so short.

She reeled back, and for the first time saw the devastation around her, the blood that soaked her very hands. The flesh that had nearly burned away around her stomach where the magical fire had sealed her wound. And she saw the man who'd assailed her-- Nicholas.

His crystalline blue eyes bored into hers, tears streaked down his cheeks as he gripped her by the shoulders. Wait-- Blue?

"Grandfather?" He screamed at the ceiling. "_Grandfather, I know you can hear me!"_His voice for once became pleading, desperate, emotional. "_Grandfather, you told me! You told me one day I'd have to make a choice! A choice that would affect my entire life! That would change the course of the coming war! Well, I've made my choice!"_

His eyes turned purest silver then, returning to their natural hue as they bored into her own._"I'm here. I'm begging you grandfather, help me! Help her! Please!"_

The sounds of the dying faded. The world around her, faded to oblivion.

Around her, all she found was darkness, silence. Had she died? She'd thought it would have been different. Less... sensational. Obviously, there was no actual sensation, but it was the feeling of the_lack there of--_That disturbed her--. And that itself was disturbing.

The silence broke with a silent sob in the darkness. She could hear it, somewhere._Hello?_She tried to call, but her voice refused to work. As she listened, she noticed that the sobs drew closer-- but was she moving or it? She couldn't tell. She knew it was that of a boy.

And in a flash of red, orange and yellow that left spots in her vision, the darkness vanished. Or perhaps it had simply been pushed back. Pushed back by the giant torch a boy held in his lap. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness, but then she took in the boy. He looked to be no more then a mere six year old, sitting alone. Where were his parents? His mother, father... someone? Had he been left alone in the darkness?

She moved closer to him on instinct, tried to soothe him. "Shh... sh, sh, shh.... It's alright." she whispered as she ran a hand through his raven black hair, "It's alright. You're not alone anymore."

He glanced up then as if he'd heard her, his crystalline blue eyes wide and hopeful-- and then filled with sadness. He looked back down at the torch he held in his hands as tears welled in his eyes. Ginny's focus shifted then to the torch-- only to realize it wasn't a torch at all. It was a small stuffed bear, a simple child's toy.

"Nicholas, there you are!" Said a loud, stern voice behind her. The boy whirled, both in what Ginny could tell were apprehension for doing something he didn't know was wrong, and relief at finally not being alone.

"Daddy!" He cried happily, and ran into his fathers arms. The man smiled, and hefted the little Nicholas into his arms, a smile on his face. "What've I told you, huh? Don't go running off alone."

"I'm sorry daddy... I thought I'd heard something out here." The father turned then, taking in the apparent shed that Nicholas had lost himself in-- and seemingly took in the burning toy for the first time. "The hell?" he whispered and set Nicholas down.

"Da~ddy!" Nicholas chided, "You said you'd stop using bad words!"

The man smiled slightly at his son, "I'm sorry son," Then bent to pick up the toy by one leg. Seemingly only one half of the face of the teddy-bear was burned, and nothing else, "Now how in the world this happen?" He whispered to himself.

"I did it, Daddy!" Nicholas pronounced proudly.

"You did..?" The man said, stunned.

"Aye! I'd gotten scared in the dark, and I'd thought how much I wanted something to see by-- and then Ton lit up! It was amazing, Daddy!"

The man smirked at that, " Son, what've I told you about lying?"

"But I'm not lying!" Nicholas protested. He reached up then, taking the toy bear by one arm. When he touched it, the flames went out. "See?" He said matter-of-factly.

The toy fell from the man's hand then. "Daddy! Don't drop Ton! He doesn't like that!"

Yet the father said not a word. Instead, he simply turned, his eyes wide and fearful, and walked back to the house. "Dad?"

Nicholas called, and raced after him. There was a sound from out the front of the house, and Nicholas recognized it as the sound of the car starting. The world blurred then, and Ginny found herself disoriented then. She was standing in a room, filled with glow-in-the-dark stars and painted clouds. Children's clothes and toys lay scattered all about the room, yet it didn't feel messy. It felt like a home-- that of a happy child. Yet the occupants of the only twin bed were not. Little Nicholas sat in his mother's lap as she tried her best to soothe him. He sobbed and cried inanely, until she settled him down enough to speak through broken hiccups.

"A-and then he went back inside. A-and I t-t-tried to f-follow him, b-but he t-took the car." Ginny noticed then the grimace on Nicholas's mother's beautiful face; the fear and the worry. She hugged Nicholas close then, and kissed his forehead. "I'm sure it'll be alright, Nicky. Your father loves you and me very much. He'd never do anything to harm us." She said reassuringly. Ginny couldn't be sure if she was saying it more to Nicholas, or to herself. The woman drew out her wand then, and flicked it through a series of complex movements.

The air before her shimmered then, and Nicholas's eyes widened, " Wo~ow... I didn't know you could do that, Mommy! Cool! Can I do magic too..?"

His mother smiled quietly, as if his words pained her greatly, "Yes, Nicholas, you can." She turned back then to the shimmering air, "_Accio Pathfinder."_Out of the shimmering air materialized a book-- the very book that Nicholas held onto so dearly. The mother hugged the book to herself for a moment, then Nicholas. In the distance, Ginny could hear the crunch of tire against gravel.

The mother picked up Nicholas then, and carried him to his closet. "Why don't we play hide and seek, Nicky? You hide here, and I'll tell Daddy we're playing, okay?"

Nicholas smiled then, and hid in the closet just as his mother had told him. Yet when he turned back to her, Ginny could see it in her eyes. She knew something terrible was going to happen. She glanced down at the book cradled to her chest, then smiled slightly. "Here Nicky. Will you hold onto this? Try and read it, I've always enjoyed that."

He smiled as he took the book from her, "Okie!"

The light began to grow dim as the closet doorway shut, and when but a sliver of light was left, Ginny heard the front door open, and Nicholas's mother whisper, "And Nicholas? No matter what, no matter _what_you hear, don't come out of that closet until we come to get you, do you hear me?"

Sudden fear entered Nicholas's eyes, as he nodded. He knew something terrified his mother. The door shut, pitching Ginny and the young Nicholas into indescribable darkness. Ginny could hear footsteps through the house like the beating of her too fast heart.

Voices came then. At first calm, then frantic, then pleading.

The sound that came next struck fear into Ginny's heart. Fear of a mother for her child, or a sister for her brother. Too loud thunder roared through the house, and the dead silence that followed tore at the imagination. She could hear Nicholas's pounding heart next to her; hear his terrified breathing as footsteps began to approach his room. Ginny peered then through the closet door, just as Nicholas himself was doing. His door cracked open slowly, admitting Nicholas's father.

The man's gait was slurred, drunken. His eyes red and his cheeks stained with tears. He looked around the room, and revulsion entered his eyes. "Monster...." he whispered. "You're not my son! I did not birth an abomination!" he roared at the walls, weeping. Ginny saw then the blood that flecked his clothing, his skin. The shotgun he held in his hands. His blood soaked hands. He stumbled forward, before collapsing onto Nicholas's bed. When he rolled over, he looked grim, devoid of life.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered as he moved the barrel under his chin.

"NO!" Nicholas screamed as he shoved the door open. Thunder roared, and again the world delved into darkness. Ginny found herself shuddering, tears streaking down her cheeks at what she'd just witnessed. She could feel the bile, the awful acidic taste that flooded her mouth and throat, burning the air from her lungs.

_I learned later,_came Nicholas' voice from the darkness,_that he was right._

Rage flooded her at that, at his words. It overshadowed everything, consuming her pain with a ravenous hunger, "How can you? How can you_dare_say that?" she screamed at the darkness. "Nicholas, I know you. You're no monster! You're not an abomination! You were just a kid! A scared kid who didn't know any better! You can't blame yourself for this!"

Thunder roared again, causing Ginny to jump. The sky above her filled with flashes of light, lightning dancing between the clouds. Within moments, the soft pitter patter of rain striking stone filled her ears, causing Ginny to take in her surroundings.

She found herself in what looked like a barren wasteland, shrubs and rocks pocking the earth every now and then to as if fighting to give the land some semblance of life. "Nicholas..?" she whispered, afraid of what she might see next.

Slowly, he wandered into view, holding a book tight to his chest. He looked worn and haunted, even on his child like face, hinting that it couldn't have more then a few weeks since the last part of the vision.

Yet, when she looked closely, she could see it. See how thin his frame was, his skin stretched over his bones. His clothes were torn and covered in filth, and the rain plastered his hair against his battered face. She shuddered at the sight, a sob wanting to rip from her throat but forced herself to hold it in. He looked so... broken. As if the world had come to an end. In his eyes, it likely had.

He fell forward then, a rock catching his foot and causing him to stumble. He hit the ground with barely a whimper, and Ginny knelt beside him. She tried to run a hand through his hair, tried to do something to soothe the small boy. Yet it was in vain, her handing passing through him as if he were made of simple vapor. She was a spectator in this, nothing more.

Slowly, he rolled over, ignoring the rain that splashed into his unfocused eyes, and simple stared into the heavens. She could almost hear his voice in her head, his silent plea to simply be at peace. To have someone, anyone to comfort him, hold him. He was simply so alone.

Fate it would seem, had other plans.

As he stared unseeing into the nights sky, the moon broke through the clouds. The_full_moon. Nicholas' eyes widened as they locked on the gleaming silver orb, hanging like an all knowing eye in the sky. Suddenly, and without warning, Nicholas bolted upright. He reached for his chest as his face screwed up in pain. His mouth opened, but no sound beyond a vague rasp came from him. Ginny realized with a jolt of fear, of silent prayer that no more would happen to him, that he was screaming. Her wish went unanswered.

Over the next few minutes Ginny watched in horror as each of his bones shattered, then slowly reformed inside his body. His muscles shifted, reforming. Fur began to sprout from his skin, slow at first, as if his body was at war with itself, until finally Nicholas threw back his head and let out an earth shattering scream. It was so guttural, so heart rending, that Ginny found herself unable to stand properly, her cheeks tear stained. His scream turned into a howl as the last of the transformation took him, and when Nicholas opened his eyes again, they glowed a swirling silver. Whimpering, Nicholas tried to take a step forward, as if to move towards her. Ginny lurched forward, wanting desperately to hold him, to comfort him and tell him it was alright, it was over.

Yet the young wolf would find no reprieve from his anguish. A dark, sinister laugh filled the air as Nicholas slumped to the ground, his body unable to find the strength to hold him up. Instead, he simply shifted his eyes, and looked back at the newcomer.

"It's about time, Fenrir. I was beginning to wonder when you would awaken. Still," the man said as he prowled forward, his clothing untouched by the rain his Crystalline blue eyes locked on the wolf before him, slowly coming to a stand still over Nicholas, "here you are. A little worse for ware, but still usable. Yes, you will make an excellent tool." The wolf shuddered, and forced himself to his feet. He turned his back on the man, and slowly started to shamble away.

"Hrrmm..." the man purred in an almost mocking tone, "there's still fight in you left. Good. It's always most enjoyable to break one." Nicholas stopped, and slowly turned his glowing eyes on the man, who continued with a cruel, wolfish smile, "yes... Break you. Just like I broke that whore mother of yours."

There was no warning. No twitch of movement. One moment, Nicholas had been several feet away from the man, the next, he was in mid-lunge has maw poised to rip out the man's throat. Yet he never made it that far. With a contemptuous laugh, the man swatted Nicholas aside with the ease of a cat swatting a mouse.

Nicholas hit the ground with a yelp and a sharp crack, signaling the breaking of one of his bones. Yet still, he tried to stand, still he tried to fight. The man slammed his hand down over Nicholas' muzzle, and broke his jaw against the earth.

"That's right, little Fenrir. I'm your father. You think I'm scared of you? I made you, and I can just as easily destroy you. You are_nothing_to me, save a tool; a pawn. I have use of you, and I will do as I please. Serve me well, and I will grant you the death you so eagerly yearn for. Displease me, and I will pull you apart piece by piece until you beg for the end that_will never come."_Nicholas whimpered, and time shifted.

Instead of it's customary fade to black, time simply flowed forward at a much faster rate. Images flashed forward before Ginny, images too brutal and inhuman to be described. In some, Nicholas's flesh had been rended apart so badly he resembled a bloody pile of meat rather then a human being. In others he was the beast, destroying human life. For that is what the monster (for Ginny refused to call that..._Thing _a father) taught him.

It taught him to destroy, to end life. It taught him how to be the monster. If Ginny had been awake, had been in her real body, she knew that if she hadn't been sick before, she was now. She knew she would be huddled in the corner, praying for it all to stop. To think, that any one man could endure so much, and_somehow_remain human.

When time resumed its normal pace, Nicholas was much older. In fact, he resembled what he appeared to be now, though a much harder, colder man then he was now. Ginny realized with a start how much softer he'd become. How much gentleness had entered him in their time as friends. For she knew now, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that is what they were.

She stood beside her friend as he approached his master, seated upon a throne that Ginny knew was made from the bones of countless humans. She knew because she'd watched as Nicholas was forced to make it. And now, she watched with clenched teeth as he bowed to that vile thing. "My lord Loki, you called me?"

The man sat forward, a cruel gleam in his eyes. Yet, now that Ginny was watching, she noticed something else. Fear, was it? Trepidation? Something was bothering him.

"I have a task for you." he pronounced coldly.

"Yes, father." Nicholas replied, the flinched in pain but a moment as a whip connected with his bare back.

"How many times do I have to tell you boy? You will_never_call me that. You are a puppet, a tool. Nothing more."

"Yes, my lord." Nicholas said through clenched teeth. Yet when Ginny looked, she could see the wolfish smile hidden on his lips. She realized then, every chance he got, he defied his master. Even if it was small and insignificant, he did whatever he could to prove to himself he was still alive. He was still in there.

Loki relented after a minute, lowering the whip and smiling cruelly, "See? I told you you would break." Ginny could see the scared muscles on Nicholas' back clench in anger, rage, but he held himself back. It would do him no good to lash out. Finally, Loki continued, as if he hadn't noticed a thing, "The time has come. The time for you to fulfill your purpose. The time has come for you to achieve the reward you have so desperately been wanting. Complete this task, and you will have it." relief filled him. Finally, it would be over. Finally, he would be free of this world and it's cruelty.

"It has become known to me of another pawn. A tool, set up by my father to oppose me. Yet, she has not awakened. She does not know what is before her. And my father has foolishly left her unguarded, save his own power. He weakened himself, and gave a piece of his power to the girl, in the hopes that she might restore this land." Loki's smile grew vicious, hungry, "she was set up by my father to become a queen to these humans, to bring peace to the lands. You will kill her, and feed her power to me. With it, I will crush this world under my heel. And from the ashes, I will build an army so great my father will never know what hit him. The veil will shatter and I will rule over both worlds." The man finished, a wicked gleam in his eye as he clenched his fist, as if to demonstrate his complete control over the worlds.

"Her name, my lord..?" Nicholas whispered but knew Loki would hear him.

"Ginevra Weasley."

Time shifted again, yet Ginny found herself frozen with fear and incomprehension. Her? A queen? No, a pawn. A tool to be used by whoever Loki's father was. She felt anger well up inside her, anger at what it entailed. She was being used by another, being set up to destroy. Granted, if it was Loki, she would gladly destroy him. After what he had done to Nicholas, she would destroy him a thousand times over. Yet before she could ponder that thought more, the vision resumed.

She found herself this time standing in a dorm, looking down at the dark blue Stool of Ravenclaw's robes. She could feel the fabric against her scarred hands, feel the softness of it. Wait, her what? Ginny stopped for a moment, though her body continued to move of it's own accord. Or she should say,_his_body, she realized with a start. She was suddenly seeing things from Nicholas' point of view.

Suddenly another voice entered her mind,_Nick, you sure about this? I mean, sure, we've killed people before but..._The voice paused for a moment, as if contemplating it's words,_somehow, this just... feels wrong. Worse than anything we've ever done._

"I don't care." Nicholas fired back verbally. It was odd to fee one's mouth move without any conscious thought telling it to do so. "I'll finally be free._We'll_finally be free." Nicholas said with a smile and a bolt of joy and relief so pure Ginny didn't know whether she should feel happy that he could feel joy still, or fear that he was feeling it while contemplating her death.

"Do you really believe that, son?" came a voice from behind him. Nicholas whipped around, his confiscated combat knife seemingly materializing in his hands. Before him stood a man, well into his years. His hair was black hair was peppered with silver, and cropped close to his head, yet was hidden by the bowler hat he wore. He had a pronounced, walrus mustache over his top lip, and a intelligent gleam in his cobalt blue eyes. His tailored suite was much like his hat, earthy brown and unassuming, yet his presence alone commanded attention. There was a quiet strength about the man that reminded Ginny of Nicholas in so many ways.

"Who're you?" questioned Nicholas. The man smiled ruefully, one eyebrow shooting up towards his hairline, "What, the great Loki failed to mention his greatest enemy?"

Nicholas sighed, and lowered the combat knife back to his side. He doubted it would do any good against the Fey Lord. "Great. What, are you here to use me too, grandfather?" Nicholas spat coldly and the man's appearance seemed to age with worry and tiredness, "_No,_my dear Nicholas. I'm here to try to help you."

Nicholas stood stalk still for a full minute, uncomprehending the words being spoken to him. Rage flooded him then and he launched at the man, the combat knife instantly moving to rest against the man's throat as Nicholas screamed, "Help?_Help?_Where the fuck were you nine years ago, huh? Where were you then? I needed you, needed_someone._I got stuck with Loki. Thanks a lot, grandfather." he seethed. The man sighed, and stood up, the blade and Nicholas passing harmlessly through him.

"I'm not actually here, Nicholas. I can't cross through the veil. My son, ever the genius he is, broke the curtain on it. Unless it's fixed, I can't pass through into your world."

"But you can project." Nicholas stated as he caught on, and the Fey lord nodded his acknowledgment. Nicholas sighed and collapsed onto the bed, "So why now? Why show yourself here, now of all times and places. You still could have been there, could have at least tried to help."

"Sadly, I cannot. I cannot interfere with your world. And I can only project thusly because of your proximity to my steed." the man stated as he tiredly slumped onto the bed alongside Nicholas. Nicholas' mouth formed as if to say "Ah" yet no sound came forth. Instead, he simply sat up beside the old man, "So come to convince me of the 'error of my ways' in an attempt to save your precious toy?"

"_She is not a toy!"_The man snapped so fast and with such authority that the room itself actually rumbled. This time it was Nicholas' turn to lift an eyebrow to his hairline. "Forgive me. I'm accustomed to you Fey treating us humans as mere pawns to be used in your wars or for your pleasure."

The old man let out a tired sigh, "Yes... That is regrettable. I had hoped to spare you of some of our foolishness, but Loki managed to get there before anyone I could trust could. I'd taken care to be sure and give your mother that book you covet so much before you were born. I knew it would be one of the only things that you would have to stay sane with."

"You knew my mother..?" Nicholas breathed before his bran caught up with his words. He seemed so reverent and happy when he'd said those words, yet his demeanor turned glacial, "You knew what was coming and you didn't warn her? You knew that monster Loki was coming and you didn't hide her?" his temper was flaring now, his voice rising with the accusation.

"I warned her. She knew what was going to happen, or at least moderately. She couldn't prevent it. She chose to save you, Nicholas, over herself. She loved you, more then the world itself. She'd have given anything to keep you safe. Even her life." the man said, placing his hand on Nicholas' shoulder, "do_not_disgrace her memory with being bitter and angry over it. Love her for the time you had, and then move on." at this point, Nicholas was fighting back the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He refused to cry, refused to show emotion, refused to be broken. The man nodded his head in unspoken understanding.

It took a moment for Nicholas to compose himself, and when he did, the man continued, "I'm here, Nicholas, to offer you a choice. You're strong-- "

"Hah!" Nicholas roared, "Bullshit! If I was strong, I wouldn't be in the position I'm in now. I'd be able to stop Loki, to fight him."

"And that is exactly what I'm talking about." The old man said, jabbing Nicholas with a finger, "You have the strength to fight Loki. You've been doing it for years. And now, you have the means to stop him, once and for all. You have in your hands a choice. Spare the girl. And you can stop a war."

"Yet I'll be stuck with Loki until either he kills her, or she kills him. And I'm still trapped in this world, still a pawn."

"Do you really think Loki will let you go if you kill her? Think of how 'useful' you are to him. How powerful. You think he'd just throw a tool away like that simply because it'd served it's primary purpose?" The old man shook his head, "Loki will_never_let you be free. Remember that."

"But... I don't have a choice." Nicholas pleaded, yet even to him he sounded unconvinced. The old man only smiled then, his eyes too knowing, "You_always_have a choice Nicholas. Always."

The man vanished then, just as simply as vapor in the air, and time sped forward several days. It was night time now, and he'd followed her out to the hut. He could see her flame red mane as it crossed the expanse of the field, even from this distance. Suddenly, she stopped moving, and with the flick of her wand called forth light. Her assailants were on her in seconds, pinning her to the ground before she could put up much of a fight.

This was the mighty steed of Odin? The one thing that made Loki shake in his boots? Nicholas wanted to laugh. He could kill her with out a second thought, even from here. Sadly, in order to feed her power to Loki, the kill would need to be up close and personal.

He moved with the speed and grace of a man drilled into brutal, visceral combat, who had spent years hunting the wild and often dangerous creatures that inhabited this world. Within moments, he'd closed the distance lunging into the fray to drive off the girl's attackers. They gave out startled yelps and trained wands on him, but had no combat experience. Within seconds, he'd shattered bones and sent most of them flying. Only one remained standing, one he hadn't yet reached. She panicked as she saw her compatriot's go flying, but instead of fleeing like others had in the past, she attacked. "_Avada Kedavra_!" she screamed, and a jet of green light flashed forth from her wand.

He snarled his wrath and reached through_Daemon_, into the very magic around him. Summoning the ice from the air around him, he split the killing curse in half with it, and then launched it at the foolish girl. In one move, he trapped her against a tree, the ice catching her hair and yanking her clean off her feet in the process. She screamed out in pain, to which he silenced her with a simple stunning curse.

The girl at his feet looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, "Y-You saved me..." she whispered, to which he snarled out another stunner. Her head snapped back against the ground, leaving her unconscious instantly.

Summoning forth a blade of pure ice, Nicholas stepped over her limp body; his eyes alight with a manic gleam. "Finally... it's over. It's all, over...."

"_Dammit Nicholas, no! Don't do this!"_Daemon screamed in his head, causing Nicholas to freeze for a moment in shock.

"I have to! I don't have a choice! I_have_to kill her!" Nicholas protested. There was no way, no chance in hell that a foolish girl this weak would_ever_stand up to Loki.

"_You don't have to do a damn thing Nicholas. You have a choice, you always have a choice!"_Nicholas could feel the sweat beginning to bead over his body, a thousand thoughts, fears, and mindless gibberish rushing through his brain all at once as he hesitated. Finally, he tightened his grip on the ice blade.

"Not this time_Daemon..._not this time..."

"FINE!"_Daemon_roared, and suddenly the blade of ice simply turned to ash in Nicholas's hand.

"_Daemon_what are you doing?" Nicholas screamed, and suddenly felt himself cut off from the world, from everything that held even any form of meaning to him. True, he hated Loki, but not this world. Even a blind man could see the simplistic beauty of this world, yet suddenly he'd been severed from it.

"_You wanna destroy your life,_Fine!_Do it yourself. I_REFUSE_to help you kill yourself."_Nicholas snarled at_Daemon's_words, and drew his wand. Fine, if that was how it would be, he'd simply handle this without_Daemon_.

"Congratulations_on your victory, Loki." Daemon_whispered, causing Nicholas's breathe to catch, his eyes to widen. Seconds ticked by as Nicholas stood frozen,_Daemon_'s words ringing in his ears. Finally, his teeth thoroughly gnashed, he howled out, "_Obliviate!"_

The charm struck the prostrate girl at Nicholas's feet, and he wiped her memory of the last several minutes. Turning, he did the same to each of the girls.

"_I knew you'd do the right thing Nicholas." Daemon_whispered, to which Nicholas bit back, " I haven't_done_anything. I can kill her anytime I see fit. I just didn't feel like it right now."

"_Mmm... well, until you make a decision you can forget working together."_

Time shifted again and again, stopping when Ginny had confronted him in the field. The indecision that warred through him was evident now, the choice between killing her and letting her live. She had life, fire, and nearly no fear.

A test then. A test to see if she was worth his life.

He'd fought her, seen her skill. She still had a long way to go, but he saw something in that time; seen something when Harry appeared. A part of him, thrilled with hope. She had heart, more so then most. She had love, something Loki could never understand. And he had felt the power in her, seen it. She was untrained, but that could be fixed.

Time flew again, and he found himself and Odin before Snape, directed by the late headmaster of the school. "Our accords still stand, Albus." Odin said with a small smile, and Albus nodded in understanding.

"It's time then?" the old man questioned, to which Odin simply nodded.

"How?" Snape asked, and Nicholas proceeded to explain his plan to extricate Ginger, as he'd come to call her, from the forest after Snape had had her sent in. The headmaster's nodded in understanding, and soon, all was in motion.

As the last of the images faded into darkness, a single pinpoint light formed before Ginny. Slowly, she stepped forward, into the halo of light. Opposite her, entered Nicholas. His eyes, now a solid, glacial blue, locked on hers as he entered.

"I am Nicholas Calloway, son of Anna Calloway, muggleborn. And I am also, son of Loki, son of Odin, High lord of the Fey."

"I was sent to kill you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, by my father, Loki. Yet, by the words of Odin himself, and by your actions I have stayed my blade. Instead, I seek a new path, a new purpose."

Slowly, Nicholas dropped to one knee then, bowing his head, "And in you, I have found it. I have found a reason to live, a reason to keep going. In this, I pledge my life to your will. Where you go, I shall follow. When you make for battle, so shall I." Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes locking on her's, shimmering to pure silver, "And if by your will I give my life, then so be it. I am yours to command, Fey Born Queen."

Time seemed to drift to a standstill for Ginny. Try as she might, her brain couldn't seem to comprehend everything she'd just seen, no, experienced. It didn't seem real, yet a part of her knew it to be. A part of her had expected it. Taking a step forward, she let her instincts take over. Slowly, she put her hand on Nicholas' head as he bowed once more, "I accept your pledge, oh knight. And I will hold you to it, by the words of Lord Odin himself." She felt a flash of energy rush down her arm, linking her to Nicholas. Felt their energies, their magicks mold and connect on the ethereal level.

And as simply as it had begun, the connection was over. Ginny found herself back in the real world, her body screaming in pain as her mind fought for control. She realized idly that she now lay with her head in Nicholas' lap, his hands cupping her face on either side.

Yet, his gaze was not on her. When she followed his deathly glare, she noted two things: First, they were surrounded on all sides by_several_shafts of near blinding white light. And out past that, though Ginny could barely perceive them, she saw the men who had attacked her.

"I say again, Lord Becken'dar, you_will_serve her." bellowed a voice from all around her. At first she thought to look for the source, only to recognize its Basso timber.

No.

It couldn't be.

"But Lord Odin!" said one of the men from outside the light, "She's but a child! True, she is powerful, but can we really trust her to lead us?"

"This is not a matter of discussion, Lord Becken'dar!" Odin rumbled in reply, "But if you_must_make this a matter of trust, then do you not trust me, Lord Becken'dar? Where does your loyalty lay?"

"I-I... Yes, your Majesty. You are right, of course."

As one, thousands of men all took to one knee around Ginny, "The Dwarven house of Becken'dar will serve Lady Weasley. We are yours to command, my Lady." bellowed Becken'dar himself.

The light around Ginny and Nicholas shimmered then, before collapsing into a single pinpoint spot. It expanded after a moment, first into the shape of a man that Ginny recognized from Nicholas's memories, and then into a glimmering horse. It approached Ginny, neighing lightly, and then shimmered before merging into Ginny herself.

She gasped after a moment, feeling a burning warmth spread through her limbs, and particularly behind her eyes.

"_This was close, Ginevra. I might not be able to save you next time._" Odin whispered in her head, his voice ringing clear none the less.

_My... my Patronus... it's you?_Ginny replied in her mind, nearly panicked.

"_You could say that... After all, I serve as your Patron, Ginevra. I will do what I can to help you, when I can, but I am limited on my level of involvement my dear. You will have to rely on your's and your friends' power to see you through these times."_He replied, and then slowly, the last of Odin's presence faded from Ginny's mind, and with it, the last of her strength.

Her last thought as she faded into unconsciousness was how she was going to explain a god, a knight, and an army to Harry.

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
